


Fireheart

by bottomchanyeol, Clytia



Series: Metahumans!au [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Burns and description of burning, Depression, Dirty Talk, Graphic description of a non sexual choking scene, Lots of asshole-authoritative Kyungsoo, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Violence, identity crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 46,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8998195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomchanyeol/pseuds/bottomchanyeol, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clytia/pseuds/Clytia
Summary: Chanyeol failed his final Academy Exam and now has to work as a sidekick for the famous superhero D.O. (Wherein Chanyeol constantly has an identity crisis.)- This fanwork was written for round 1 of the bottom!Chanyeol fest [2016].





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my beta, Jen, who dedicated so much time and effort making this presentable. Thanks to you, this fic is something that I'm proud to share.
> 
> A cheer also to my friend Helen, who sent me Chansoo gifs throughout the writing process to motivate me. Obviously, it worked.  
>  **Disclaimer **: I took inspiration for their powers from so many different anime, comics, TV series and movies that I can’t really point out anything specific. I also read some books from the Tog series while writing the first part. I had already written 10K before reading HoF and QoS, so all of the ideas are mine, but I admit that some tiny (barely noticeable) details are “inspired” by these books. The biggest and most noticeable influence is the title. When I tried to think of one, “Fireheart” seemed perfect to me, so I put a **BIG** disclaimer on that. Plus the term was used in the next book I read, ‘Uprooted’, so I thought that this must have been meant to be.****

Chanyeol jumped and ran to his right, narrowly avoiding an exploding toxic ice ball. He looked around him, trying not to panic and _think of something_ , when he heard it. The buzzing sound of electricity surrounded him, making his hair twitch and his heart skip a beat. He had half a second to react before getting struck by lightning. Chanyeol ducked, making himself as small as possible. The moment the sound came he engulfed himself on fire, making an electrical resistance shield. When he opened his eyes he was surprised that he was not dead. He exhaled and looked worriedly around him. _Where was Baekhyun?_

“Baekhyun?” he yelled, “Baekhyun, watch out!” he warned as he produced two flames, shooting them right at his opponents. They scattered immediately. The flames licked the floor but did little damage, much to his disappointment.

“Hey I’m here,” a familiar, out-of-breath voice came from beside him. He turned his eyes for a second, not wanting his opponents to notice his distraction. He preemptively created a firewall around them, making sure to show that he would use it if provoked.

“Why are you still invisible, Baek? I can’t fight well when I might accidentally set you on fire.”

“I fight better this way,” his friend replied as Chanyeol avoided deadly ice spikes aimed just at him. He melted them immediately, trying not to burn Baekhyun in the process, and counter-attacked with an undeniably out of control flame. He needed to focus.

“Then go fight them damn it!” Chanyeol growled. He could handle the ice guy -he thought- but he wasn’t accustomed to fighting electricity types. “Can you knock out- Watch out!”

Thunder shook the building in its core. His fire shield collapsed as his concentration broke. He could hear people screaming around him and the smoke he inadvertently produced made his eyes water. Baekhyun was nowhere to be found and the two opponents were too close to each other. Chanyeol swore loudly. They had long figured out that when Baekhyun was invisible and going at them, there was little chance for Chanyeol to attack. Chanyeol grunted and smashed an evil little snowman that tried to chew on his shoe. “Damn it, Baek,” he whispered, flames licking his fingers and ready to erupt at any moment.

A yell caught his attention and he slightly tilted his head, trying to hold his ground. Baekhyun was aiming his punches at the electricity type, who produced a whining sound, as he lost his balance and tried to retreat. Electricity sparked in his hands, ready to fire and knock anyone close enough to the ground. But Baekhyun was faster, sneakier. His opponent’s pants were suddenly pulled down, revealing obnoxiously yellow Pikachu briefs. Baekhyun’s chuckle was audible enough for even Chanyeol to hear it. _Oh no, don’t let them hear you!_ Chanyeol turned to the frost type fighter to-

Baekhyun was suddenly very _frozen_ , as he was now a very much immobile ice statue. Chanyeol’s eyes widened and he immediately sent heat waves towards his friend, hoping not to burn him instead. Chanyeol could hardly manipulate his power in normal circumstances, let alone under pressure. Usually he ended up using too much at once, as he could not control his bottomless well of power. He really did try not to burn Baekhyun. He really tried.

It was a mistake. He got distracted.

He attempted to save the situation. Just when he heard the familiar lightning sound he concentrated on every flame he could produce out of his body. Chanyeol simply unleashed it all. He should have been more careful, he thought as a blue light suddenly engulfed him. Reluctantly, he closed his eyes. The smell of soot was the last thing he remembered.

 

[…]

 

He woke up feeling sore. Baekhyun worriedly glanced at him from a chair beside the bed, biting his fingers nervously. Chanyeol groaned.

“Hey, you okay?” Baekhyun was instantly on his feet. He approached the bed, hesitantly, as if he was afraid of Chanyeol. “Lay-hyung fixed you up but he said you should rest, don’t get up-”

“Did we win?” his voice was hoarse and it hurt to speak, like acid had burnt his throat. He wondered if he had thrown up but he couldn’t recall.

Baekhyun averted his eyes with guilt. Chanyeol sighed and rubbed his eyes miserably. His face and hands were still dirty and smelly from the test.

“Hey, don’t be sad, our results don’t necessarily have to do with winning or losing,” Baekhyun tried to comfort him, but didn’t sound very persuaded himself. “I mean, you did great, they’ll probably fail me-”

“Baek…” he interrupted. “Why did we fail?” He could not hide the sadness in his voice. “Each of us alone could have taken them easily. Both of them.”

Baekhyun did not speak, drooping his head as he stared at his shoes awkwardly. “I-”

“I am glad you realize that,” a voice interrupted. Headmistress Taeyeon swept into the room, two figures following her. Xiumin and Chen, the heroes they had faced for their final test. Baekhyun abruptly straightened his back while Chanyeol sat up on his bed, trying hard not to groan at his protesting muscles.

“Chanyeol, how are you feeling?” the Headmistress asked. Chanyeol blushed. Her gaze suddenly turned cold. “You two. You messed up. A lot.” If her voice could kill, they would both be dead.

Two pairs of eyes looked at her, horrified.

Chen chuckled from behind. “Don’t look so scared,” he said, and his voice was actually soothing. Baekhyun widened his eyes and looked at him.

Headmistress Taeyeon cleared her throat and took out a piece of paper from her pocket. She unfolded it and read it silently. She then raised her eyes. “You two are both assigned to be sidekicks,” she stated. Chanyeol felt like someone had punched him in the chest. “You will each get assigned to a superhero and after you complete 6 months of internship you can take the test again, _if_ you are still willing to be classified as heroes.” Baekhyun groaned and ruffled his own hair in despair.

“Headmistress,” he said, “That’s not fair! Just because we lost this match we have to be sidekicks? Heroes can lose too,” he whined.

Her expression turned colder and Baekhyun took a step back. “You two,” she said, “are extremely gifted children. You,” she turned to Chanyeol, “are the most promising fire fighter I’ve ever seen. You probably have fire abilities that you do not yet know of because your power has not fully matured yet.” She knitted her eyebrows. “You cannot control them efficiently, yet you successfully created an electrical resistance shield in the middle of the match. Why did you not do that in the end as well?”

Chanyeol blushed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess it was an accident.”

“You cannot let accidents happen in the real world, not with your power,” she said sharply. “We have protective shields in our arena, but what you did there in the last second would have set at least 2 blocks with civilians on explosive fire.”

“You,” she turned on Baekhyun, “Light manipulator. Why turn invisible?” Baekhyun looked at her, determined to defend his strategy.

“I’m a martial artist, it gives me a head start.”

“If you were alone. But you are working with a fire type. How is your partner supposed to work if he cannot see you?”

Baekhyun opened his mouth and then closed it instantly, eyes turning mutinous. He pouted.

“Martial artist, huh?” said Chen lightly. “You pulled my pants down.” He winked behind the Headmistress’s back and Baekhyun turned red. Xiumin smirked. Chanyeol felt the urge to punch both of them and hug Baekhyun afterward.

“You can create basic illusions, change colors and shadows, produce light, make your opponent blind. Why not use those methods?” she asked.

“I just prefer close combat,” Baekhyun murmured. “And I’m not a coward that would create illusions or blind people. Besides, this is a teamwork challenge, what’s the point if I finished them off alone?”

Taeyeon sighed. “You still do not understand, do you? You did not fail because you lack power. You failed because you lack teamwork,” she said sharply. “And strategy.”

Chanyeol took a sharp breath, his heart beating faster at the injustice. “We are best friends,” he tried to explain, “the last thing we lack is teamwork!”

“Being best friends does not mean that you are compatible fighters,” Xiumin intervened. “If he prefers to fight while being invisible then he is obviously not a good choice of partner for you. Your powers have a huge range and can easily get out of hand, so your hero partner or sidekick should be a distance fighter, or someone who has flame immunity. Or even better, both.”

Chanyeol bowed his head.

“And he _can_ be a distant fighter with his light ability,” Xiumin continued. Baekhyun whimpered. “He just prefers not to. The reason you two lack teamwork and strategy is because while you knew you would be fighting together, you did not make a plan. You moved like two bodies. Not one.”

“But it’s me then,” Baekhyun said, voice cracking. “ _I_ lack strategy and teamwork, not Chanyeol, so why make him a sidekick too?”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“If you are a team then you should both bear the consequences,” the Headmistress replied. “You are both at fault. Chanyeol should have talked to you about it.” She turned to look at Chanyeol. “You should speak your mind more. If you are afraid for someone’s safety due to your powers, do your best to warn them. It _will be_ your fault if you injure them.” Chanyeol nodded, while feeling dizzy from the realization that _everything_ had gone wrong. Everything him and Baekhyun ever dreamed of had gone up in flames. Maybe literally.

Taeyeon hummed. “Anyway, we are doing you a favor. If Baekhyun does not want to be a distance fighter then you two were not meant to be a team. I hope you will succeed in the next test and that you will learn something in your apprenticeship. The Academy gave you all the knowledge and guidance it could provide, now it is up to you to mature in both power and mind.” She headed for the door, heels making a steady clack-clack sound on the marble floor. Just before she walked out, she turned to face them. “One last thing,” she said, and looked at the piece of paper in her hands. “Team… Firelight? What kind of superhero names are these, anyway? ‘Uto’ and ‘Pia’?” she asked and raised her eyebrows.

Chen laughed loudly and Chanyeol knew Baekhyun’s look when he wanted to turn invisible and kick someone in the ass. He pitied Chen, but not as much as he felt sorry for himself.

“You know,” he said, “when Xiumin and I started out,” he hugged Xiumin’s shoulders, “we were called Mad Ice and Thunder Boy.” Xiumin hit him lightly on the back of his head and left the room chuckling. Still, Chanyeol’s mood didn’t improve.

 

[…]

 

“Chanyeol, I’m so sorry,” Baekhyun whimpered and hit his face repeatedly on the cafeteria desk. “It’s all my fault,” he said with a muffled voice and hit his head again. People around them started pointing and whispering.

“Hey, stop that.” When Baekhyun raised his head, his forehead was an angry red. Chanyeol frowned. “It’s not your fault. We were both idiots for going to a fight like we owned the place and without talking about strategies.”

“Yeah, but you did tell me to change tactics while we were in the arena,” Baekhyun mumbled and miserably chewed on his sandwich. “I just didn’t listen.”

“We were in the middle of a fight. It wasn’t your fault, Baek.”

“It was. I’m terrible. A disgrace.”

Chanyeol sighed. “You’re not a disgrace. Besides, we’re new at this. It’s normal to get excited from the adrenaline and not make rational decisions.”

Baekhyun smiled weakly. “I still feel bad though.”

“You humiliated Chen in front of the entire Academy, doesn’t that cheer you up?” Chanyeol teased. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

Baekhyun’s cheeks turned red and he chose to bite his sandwich rather than reply, which was out of character for him. Chanyeol swore that he heard him muttering that he had turned Chen colorblind for a week. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

While the two were eating, or more specifically, picking at their food, Sehun appeared, making an obnoxiously loud noise as he dragged his chair. “Hey guys.”

“Hey.”

Sehun sat beside them _without_ permission. “You two totally sucked, I couldn’t believe it.”

Baekhyun glared daggers at him. Chanyeol laughed awkwardly. “That bad, huh?”

“You can’t even imagine,” Sehun said and started eating his lunch. “You sucked so bad I think you surpassed the time when Taemin-hyung made his opponents dance to exhaustion. At least he won.”

“Stop being disgusting and don’t talk while you chew,” Baekhyun retorted, wrinkling his nose. Sehun ignored him.

“Are they gonna let you graduate normally or will you have to repeat a year?” he asked. “I don’t know if I want you losers in my class, you’re embarrassing.”

Chanyeol stopped Baekhyun from hitting Sehun with his food tray. “Uhm, we’ll graduate normally,” he replied, “but we both got assigned as… sidekicks.”

Sehun choked on his food, eyes watering. “WHAT, YOU’RE SIDEKICKS?” he cried out.

The cafeteria fell silent. Then all at once everyone exploded with yells, screams, and furious text messages.

Chanyeol dropped his head into his palms while Baekhyun looked positively murderous. “Thank you Sehun,” he hissed and this time he actually hit him with his empty orange juice cup.

“That’s so scary,” Sehun shrieked, ignoring the fact that Baekhyun had just hit him. “I mean, with your powers and you get sidekick? What if next year I’ll have to collaborate with someone incompetent in the arena and I end up like you? This is a disaster!”

“Thank you, Sehun,” Chanyeol repeated and sat up. “But the case with you is that you don’t have anyone who will voluntarily choose to fight with you,” he said. Sehun rolled his eyes. He did not regret being harsh on the brat. “Baek, come with me, I want to talk to you. Privately.”

Baekhyun looked at him and nodded as he stood up. “Whatever,” he mumbled as they silently walked away from the chaos, towards the backyard. They were silent on the way there, walking side by side comfortably but with obvious defeat. When they arrived they hid behind the rose bushes where the Academy stoners usually hung out.

“Sorry about that,” Chanyeol said sheepishly. “I shouldn’t have told him like that, now everyone knows.”

Baekhyun exhaled loudly and nervously played with his fingers. As he did it, the roses began to change colors. “Either way, they would’ve all learned about it at graduation. They announce it, you know.”

“Have you come up with a name?”

“No? Have you?”

“Not really,” he admitted. “Uto and Pia are indeed a bit stupid,” he chuckled awkwardly and ruffled Baekhyun’s hair.

Baekhyun smiled. “I think we got too excited about being heroes. Maybe it’s okay if we slow things down. We don’t even know our secret identity names yet and graduation is in two weeks. Now we don’t have to rush it.”

“You won’t declare a name?” Chanyeol asked curiously.

“Hmm, not yet. I did research on seventh grade about superhero names, remember?” he said and Chanyeol felt a sting of melancholy rising from his belly to his chest. “When you’re a probational sidekick you don’t have to pick an official name yet. You have to pick when you become a hero or when you accept your position as a sidekick indefinitely. So we don’t have to hurry,” he explained. Chanyeol nodded.

“Oh, that’s good, I don’t have any idea what to choose,” he laughed but felt bitter inside, like there was a never-ending taste of ash on his tongue. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while.

“I want to talk about something,” Baekhyun abruptly said, and Chanyeol suddenly felt worried.

Baekhyun lowered his eyes. “It’s about what Xiumin said,” he explained. “About our team…” he took a deep breath. “I… I…-”

“Baek, it’s okay,” Chanyeol whispered and Baekhyun finally looked at him. “You can tell me,” he said and smiled weakly, trying to ignore the weight in his chest that suddenly felt a lot heavier.

Baekhyun shuddered and the light around them flickered. Chanyeol blinked. It was rare for Baekhyun to lose control in that way.

“I don’t want to be a distance fighter,” he finally let out. “I like fighting. I worked so hard on martial arts, it’s what I do.”

“Baekhyun, you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Yes I do,” he said and his voice cracked. “I have to, because it was our dream since we were five that we’d become heroes together. And I ruined it, didn’t I?” he sniffled. Chanyeol launched himself forward and hugged him. Baekhyun planted his head on his chest and hiccuped loudly. The other boy patted his back lightly and Baekhyun seemed to relax a little, still whimpering from time to time.

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol assured him. “Baekhyun it’s okay, I promise. We’re still friends. And we’ll become heroes together, it doesn’t matter that we won’t be a hero team. We’ll always be a team where it matters.”

Baekhyun chuckled and raised his head. His eyes were red and teary, but he smiled. “You’re so cheesy,” he accused and Chanyeol ruffled his hair affectionately.

“I’m perfect,” he replied.

 

[…]

 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun had been best friends since the time they were both five and Baekhyun and his brother had moved in with their Grandmother, Chanyeol’s neighbor. Chanyeol’s mom was a busy hero herself. She often dropped Chanyeol and his sister at Baekhyun’s grandmother’s house to play, while she fought crime with her high-definition vision and archery abilities. Baekhyun and Chanyeol always played heroes together, imagining what their abilities would be like and how they would triumph over their enemies.

Chanyeol did not know why Baekhyun lived with his grandmother or why he hardly ever mentioned his parents.

“Does Baekhyun have parents?” he asked his mother one day at dinner. She instantly put her fork down.

“Of course he does, idiot,” Yoora answered while chewing. “Everyone has parents.”

“We don’t have a dad,” Chanyeol retorted and his mother laughed loudly.

She petted his hair. “Of course you have a dad,” she said.

“Really?” Chanyeol widened his eyes. “Where is he?”

His mother looked at them carefully. Yoora yawned and Chanyeol stared at her curiously. “He passed away before you were born,” she said and caught his hand in her palm. Yoora seemed like she had heard it before. But Yoora could also read minds so maybe she hadn’t exactly heard it.

“He’s in heaven?” he asked and his mother nodded. “Do you have a picture?”

Mrs. Park kept still for a few seconds and then sat up carefully. She went to the living room, and after a while, she returned with a photo album in her hands. She took Chanyeol’s barely touched plate and placed the album in front of him. Chanyeol opened the first page.

“I’ve got his ears,” he said and both his mother and sister laughed. He blushed and continued staring. “Are Baekhyun’s parents in heaven too?” he asked.

Mrs.Park didn’t answer immediately and Chanyeol thought that she seemed sad. “Yes” she finally said. “His mother is in heaven.”

“And his father?”

“I don’t know. Chanyeol, don’t ask Baekhyun unless he chooses to talk about it. Do you understand?”

“Okay, mom,” he replied and continued turning the pages, curiously studying the young man in the pictures.

 

[…]

 

The way he found out about Baekhyun’s dad was not pleasant. Chanyeol grew up knowing that he shouldn’t broach the subject, so he never asked. He simply ignored the awkward silences when someone would mention anything about a father to him and Baekhyun. He told Baekhyun that his father was in heaven but Baekhyun didn’t say anything at all. Chanyeol left it at that.

Until they were in middle school. Chanyeol witnessed a few kids shoving Baekhyun to the ground and kicking him. “Your father’s a villain!” one of them accused and kicked him again. “You’re bad!” he said between peals of laughter.

Baekhyun sat frozen on the ground, eyes watering. Chanyeol stopped walking, looking at Baekhyun who just laid on the ground and took every blow. So unlike Baekhyun to not fight back.

“Hey!” Chanyeol yelled and the kids turned to face him. “Leave him alone!”

“Hey Dumbo,” the bully teased. “Why do you want to take his side? He’s scum.”

“He’s my friend and he’s not bad!” he cried out and lurched at the older boys, trying to punch them but failing miserably. They caught him by his hood and threw him on the pavement. He felt a kick on his back and then his glasses were on the ground and he heard a loud crack. His world was suddenly blurry from both tears and bad vision. But Baekhyun stood up and helped him to his feet. Chanyeol couldn’t see him well, but he knew when Baekhyun meant business.

It was all a bit fuzzy. A few yells later, the kids had scattered and Baekhyun helped him find his way to all of his classes and took notes for him. Chanyeol didn’t really talk about it until they were both in Baekhyun’s room, waiting for Grandmother to finish dinner.

“Baek, are you okay?” Chanyeol asked. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see.

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

“You don’t sound fine…” Chanyeol mumbled. “But thank you for saving me.”

He could see that at least Baekhyun faced him now. “No… thank _y_ _ou_ ” the other boy said and chewed on his lip. “Thank you for defending me,” he whispered.

“Baek…” Chanyeol sat up and hugged his friend. Baekhyun hugged him back, chest heaving with shallow breaths. “I’m fine,” he assured. “I just… didn’t expect that.”

“It’s okay.”

“I- no one has ever told me something like that before. It hurt.”

Chanyeol tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Is- was it true?”

Baekhyun froze for a moment and then relaxed again.

“Yeah…” he mumbled. “My dad wasn’t a good guy.” He took a step away from Chanyeol, eyes dropping to the floor.

Chanyeol stared at Baekhyun, not quite believing him. He had held some theories about Baekhyun’s father but he had never suspected this.

“Do you still want to be my friend?” Baekhyun asked shyly. Chanyeol’s heart skipped a bit at how tiny Baekhyun sounded in that moment.

“Baekhyun-” he stood up. “Of course!”

Baekhyun looked at him again, his eyes shining all of a sudden. Chanyeol hugged him again and planted his friend’s head in his chest. “Don’t ever say that again. You’re you. You’re _you_ and I would _never_ trade you for anything. You’re my best friend. It doesn’t matter what your dad did.”

He could feel Baekhyun sniffling. Then a laugh. Chanyeol laughed too and petted his hair. He was quite happy.

 

[…]

 

Having known Baekhyun for so many years, Chanyeol understood his decision. It still did not hurt any less. Their team Firelight was officially over, and as a matter of fact it had ended before it had even started. Chanyeol suddenly felt very alone in his house, and the constant weight above his chest made it difficult to breathe. In his hands was a letter that would define his immediate future. A letter that the longer he held, the darker the spots where his fingers touched became.

His hands were shaking as he tore up the envelope and finally revealed the letter inside. It was a thin white folded paper that did not indicate how important it was for him and his future. He exhaled loudly and closed his eyes for a few seconds before he decided to unfold it.

“ _To Mr. Park Chanyeol:_

 

_We happily inform you that you have been assigned as a probational sidekick. Your assigned hero, mentor and instructor is_ _D.O_ _. He will contact you about your meeting. Please follow his orders and read carefully the instructions below._

  1. _Make sure that you conceal your identity successfully. Avoid dying your hair, doing tattoos and piercings that might indicate who you really are._
  2. _Hide any trademarks that make you stand out, like facial characteristics, beauty marks and scars._
  3. _Visit your local Super Hero tailor shop for a custom suit which will correspond with your special needs. Seek advice there if you encounter any problems with your persona._
  4. _Do not reveal your identity lightly to anyone, not even your mentor. Respect your mentor’s privacy._



 

_Additional notes: It came to our attention that you have not submitted your hero identity name yet. If you fail to do so until your graduation, make sure that you will find and use a secret identity when you begin work._

 

_Good luck,_

 

_Headmistress Kim Taeyeon, Super Hero Academy of Korea”_

 

Chanyeol was left speechless. He read the letter all over again, trying to grasp what he had just read. He was the sidekick of D.O. _The D.O?_ His heart started beating alarmingly faster and he abruptly sat up. “MOM!” he yelled, trying to blink the stars away. “MOM YOU CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!”

D.O was a legend among heroes. Only a few years older than Chanyeol, he was the youngest hero to ever graduate the Academy _worldwide._ He was not only powerful but very smart and that was what made him special. While super strength types were notorious for causing destruction and being brutes, D.O was the bright exception among them, always calculating his moves and acting accordingly. He was voted hero of the year three times in a row and he had never ever showed up to receive his award. Chanyeol was amazed.

Chanyeol was perplexed.

“I think this must be a mistake,” he muttered when his mom appeared. She frowned and took the letter from his hands, reading it carefully.

“D.O?” Mrs. Park cried out. “You’re D.O’s sidekick,” she repeated and clapped her hands in excitement, the paper flying out in the living room. Chanyeol tried to catch it before it got lost. “My baby, that’s great, you’ll learn so much from him!” she said and kissed him awkwardly on the cheek. Chanyeol knew his mother was proud from the gleam in her eyes. He suddenly felt guilty for not appreciating this as much as he should have.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I don’t think it’s right.”

“Why not?” she said while texting his sister. Chanyeol tried to get the phone out of her hands but she easily dodged him and sent the text. She smiled.

“Well, in the Academy they told me that I should get paired with a long distance fighter,” he explained and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “Or with someone who is immune to flames like me.”

Mrs.Park frowned.

“D.O has super strength,” she admitted. “You’re a sidekick and a mixed fighter, but honestly you prefer to fight from a distance. Maybe it’s about making you use your powers differently.”

“You mean to fight in close combat?” Chanyeol shuddered and his eyes darkened. “I don’t think-”

His mother sighed. “Chanyeol, in the real world, the bad guys _will_ try to kill you. It’s not training where you’re afraid you’re gonna burn your opponent, it’s a life and death situation. If you have to fight, don’t hesitate to use your powers. Promise me.”

“Mom,” he whined.

“Promise me,” she said and gave him the look. His mother could be intimidating when she wanted to be.

“I promise,” Chanyeol said, feeling defeated. “Still, I don’t get it. Maybe D.O is immune to flames too?”

“It would make sense.” She started playing with her hair and twisting them to make curls. “I could google him, but D.O is so secretive with his powers,” she thought out loud. Chanyeol looked at her, ready to ask all of his questions, but she cut him off. “Oh, I googled him yesterday, I don’t think there would be something new today.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would you google D.O?” Chanyeol asked. His mother avoided his eyes.

“Well, he is very impressive and handsome, don’t you think?”

“He wears a mask,” he cried out and considered covering his ears and retreating from the world forever.

“Yeah, from the nose down,” she retorted and took on a dreamy look that Chanyeol did not like at all. “But his eyes are so gorgeous, imagine how beautiful his other characteristics are, to choose to hide them instead.”

“Maybe they are ugly.” She threw a pillow at him which seriously hurt. Mom was too strong for him.

"Which reminds me that we have to go to Mrs. Kim’s for your superhero suit. Inflammable clothes are not unusual but a fire type might need extra protection from shredding. It would be embarrassing to end up naked on the battlefield.” Chanyeol yelped. “Try to think of something before we go and don’t embarrass me.” She pinched his cheek happily and left the living room, heading to the kitchen to cook something for lunch. Chanyeol looked at his phone. He clumsily typed:

“D.O, powers”

He started reading.

 

[…]

 

There ended up being many theories about D.O and his powers, but nothing was verified except the videos that proved D.O’s super strength. Chanyeol found out that some believed that D.O was indestructible and a shield type too. Others believed that he was made of stone. Some claimed that he did not need to breathe underwater, while others swore that he could cause earthquakes that could affect the whole country.

An interesting theory was that D.O didn’t cover his characteristic eyes because he could turn his opponents into stone with one look. Chanyeol shuddered and hoped he didn’t have to deal with a modern day Medusa. Maybe under his mask he had sharp teeth that he had to hide to persuade the world that he was a hero and not a villain as a user named “sebootytheories” insisted on tumblr.

Chanyeol scrolled down more, trying to find more articles about him and his fighting style. Was D.O really fireproof? He couldn’t find a thing about that. He did find a list though, of the criminals D.O had put into prison. Chanyeol read it with fascination until a certain name made him freeze on his chair.

_Shadow Prince_

Chanyeol gulped and checked again. Ears buzzing, he realized that his hands had become too hot and he dropped his phone on the bed.

Baekhyun’s father.

Chanyeol never did research on him, wanting to respect Baekhyun’s privacy. And when news came one year ago that he was caught, he avoided all articles about the arrest, wanting Baekhyun to talk about it only if he wanted to. And Baekhyun eventually did want to talk.

It happened a few days later, when Baekhyun was training his martial arts with more zeal than Chanyeol had ever seen from him. It would have made him sloppy if not for Baekhyun’s years of training. When Baekhyun suddenly landed on his back instead of his feet, tears of frustration running down his cheeks, Chanyeol came closer and sat by him, gently touching his friend’s hair.

“You can talk about it if you want to, you know.”

Baekhyun didn’t talk for a while but Chanyeol waited.

“My dad-” he finally said with a raspy voice. “He killed my mother.”

Chanyeol’s hand on his hair froze for a second but then he continued petting him.

Baekhyun took a deep breath and began again.

“My dad was always shady,” he explained. “He had a criminal record from his younger years, some stealing, some fighting. You’ve heard that he manipulates shadows right?” he chuckled. “The exact opposite of me.”

A pause.

“My mom- she was a seer.” He swallowed. “My dad, as I understood, was a blank spot for her. She often said that it was just a shadow on her vision, she could barely see some things about him. It was you know- a break for her. I guess that’s why she fell in love with him and he loved her a lot- He truly did.”

Chanyeol couldn’t imagine how the story ended, Baekhyun was almost trembling below his hands, temperature too high to be normal.

“We were very happy. And he was good, she had made him stay away from trouble and we were a normal family. As normal as we could get, I mean. Until she had a vision.”

Baekhyun paused.

“It was about the destruction of the world,” he whispered. “And all she could see was that shadow- that shadow that meant that our dad was involved. Have you ever heard about a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

"No,” Chanyeol whispered.

“It means that your actions to prevent the prophecy are, in the end, the ones fulfilling it. I guess that’s what happened. She went to the State. Told them what she had forseen and they tried- they tried to kill him. I was young but I remember. She was there in our living room, with a super team behind her telling him that he should surrender. I think it broke them both.”

“How-” Chanyeol tried to ask.

“How was she killed? My brother had me close my eyes, but they told me. There was a bullet going for him but he vanished and it hit her. They said it was an accident. I- don’t know if I believe them.” He sounded bitter. “He understood his powers, he knew where the bullet would go. I can’t forgive him.”

They both looked at each other, Baekhyun still lying on the floor. “He went rogue after that. From grief, betrayal, self-interest, I don’t really know. But he never tried to contact me or my brother. Guess that he’s too afraid of Grandmother to do so,” he chuckled. “But I keep thinking that maybe if our mother had left things as they were- if she trusted him… Maybe everything would be different now.”

“Baekhyun, I’m sorry.”

Baekhyun smiled weakly. “Don’t be. It’s good that he’s been caught.”

“Is that why you learned martial arts?”

His friend looked at him in a way he hadn’t seen before, like he was unveiling a secret. “Yes,” he whispered. “I don’t like my powers.”

“They’re yours-”

“They remind me of my dad,” Baekhyun interrupted him. “It’s the opposite but the same thing. Shadow and Light. I’ve been teased, accused and beaten up for them. Kids at school keep looking at me weirdly and I don’t want to use them to intimidate anyone the way my dad did- I want to be different.”

“I get it, I guess,” Chanyeol mumbled and Baekhyun stood up with a painful moan. “My back hurts,” he said. “Give me a massage.”

“You wish!” Chanyeol responded, and all of a sudden it was a normal day again.

 

[…]

 

Chanyeol was still thinking about Baekhyun’s father when the text came. He jumped from the surprise and clumsily opened it.

 

“ _Meet me on the roof of the city hall today at 00:00._

_D.O_ ”

 

Chanyeol read it at least 10 times while walking around his room. _That was it? That was all D.O had to say?_ Chanyeol’s mind kept going to Baekhyun. _Should he tell him? And what about what he should wear? Should he conceal his identity?_

Superheroes liked to pretend that no one knew who they were but the truth was that when most supers went to the same school, the majority of the profession knew exactly who everyone was. The masks were for the civilians.

But D.O… No one knew who he was. He graduated from the Super Hero Academy of Korea but he must have kept a low profile there with his powers. No one knew what he looked like and no one remembered anyone with his powers from high school. Chanyeol thought about respecting his privacy like the letter indicated. And the etiquette was that if you did not know who was really in front of you, you should not reveal your identity.

Making D.O uncomfortable was not on the list. Chanyeol looked at the mirror, his new black superhero suit hanging from his closet. His eyes met his reflection and he felt a wicked smile pop up from within. _Perfect._

 

[…]

 

Fist challenge: How to get on the roof of a locked city hall.

Chanyeol stared, neck hurting from looking up. He walked around the building at least three times. No stairs. Not even emergency ones. Chanyeol swore under his breath. _Didn’t D.O know that he couldn’t fly? Did D.O fly?_ Chanyeol eyes widened. _What if he did?_

He heard someone clearing his throat behind him.

Chanyeol swore, and quickly spun around. Flames licked his fingers, ready to attack.

His eyes met amused ones. Beautiful, big, amused eyes. With a hint of irritation. The eyes looked down to a watch and then back at him.

“You’re five minutes late,” D.O said curtly, and his voice was… mechanical?

Chanyeol blinked. D.O was shorter than he had assumed. He was petite with a naturally small frame, but with a massive presence that demanded submission. It was the way he held himself, Chanyeol realized, like no one and nothing could break, subdue, or bend him. He looked as steady as a rock, as hard as a diamond. Chanyeol swallowed, suddenly feeling small and fragile like a candle flame in the wind.

“Sorry,” he uttered and his voice broke. Chanyeol cursed in his mind. Good first impression. Perfect. Fine.

D.O came closer, facial characteristics becoming clearer. His black hair was styled nicely, covering his eyebrows. The only thing he could see was his eyes, warm deep brown and far too intelligent. His soft black mask covered his face from the eyes down, but revealed a round-ish shape. Chanyeol guessed that he had a voice-altering device under the mask. The little skin he showed was pale in contrast with his black outfit and hair.

If Chanyeol didn’t know better he would think he was dealing with a dark lord instead. A villain. The eyes, which he had considered owlish a second ago, were suddenly hard.

D.O walked around him, scrutinizing him. Chanyeol felt like prey and squirmed. When D.O stood before him he didn’t even know why he had thought D.O was petite in the first place. Even daring to look at him from above made him uncomfortable. He had the urge to bend his legs but he thought maybe that would be more insulting.

“Not a bad suit for a beginner,” D.O pointed out. “Not very flashy, not very heavy.” He paused and touched Chanyeol’s suit on the shoulder, testing the material. Chanyeol would swear that D.O was an electricity type if he didn’t know any better. “Fireproof,” D.O noted, more to himself. “Good,” he approved and moved his eyes to his hair. His brows furrowed.

“Not good” he said and his altered voice managed to sound sharp. “Red hair. Flashy. Reckless. Stupid.”

“It’s natural!” Chanyeol protested, but yelped at the look D.O gave him.

“Natural?” he asked.

Chanyeol nodded. D.O didn’t seem like he believed him for one second.

“Your problem,” he stated. “Your glasses,” he announced more than asked.

Chanyeol felt hot all over. He had orange-colored high tech glasses that improved his sight beyond that of a normal civilian's, and gave him night vision. They covered most of his forehead and prevented his ears from sticking out. He liked them a lot.

“Do you need them?”

Chanyeol just stared.

“Do you have bad sight?” he asked and Chanyeol was startled by the question.

“Sometimes no matter how strong, glass around your eyes is not a good idea,” he clarified.

Chanyeol felt like someone had slapped him but he managed to answer. “Yes, I’m near-sighted, but they also help me see in the dark. They’re super durable. Μy mother insisted,” he added and instantly regretted it. Way to go for the first night at patrol, mentioning his mother.

D.O nodded, but looked bored.

“Consider finding a voice alterator,” he said. “Your voice is unique.” Chanyeol was ready to reply but he cut him off. “Not now, I don’t expect you to start conversations on the field. I’ll do the talking. But in the future you should get one.” Chanyeol nodded again, feeling a tightness in his chest. This sidekick he had become, -this hero he would become-, sounded so different than him. Sounded so strange.

D.O seemed as cold as ice, as steady as a mountain. Unmovable. Invisible.

Chanyeol felt like fire. Moving. Unreliable. Uncontrollable. He whimpered when D.O turned his back and ordered Chanyeol to follow him. The flames in his hands had long blown out.

“Weren’t we meeting on the roof?” he dared to ask inside the car D.O used to patrol around town. Black, of course.

“I _was_ on the roof,” D.O replied flatly, his eyes never leaving the road. Chanyeol tried to readjust himself on the seat. “I saw you going around the building three times so I came down.”

“How did you get up?” Chanyeol asked, suddenly feeling very silly. This time, D.O glanced at him.

“Find out on your own.”

“You fly?”

“Stupid,” he said. “Of course not.” He cleared his voice like the subject made him uncomfortable.

“You climbed there?” he asked. “But there was no way up.”

“Why not?” This time his voice was amused.

“How can you climb all the way up there? Don’t you get tired?”

“I’m super strong.”

“Whatever you say,” Chanyeol muttered. “How did you expect me to get up there?”

“By being creative.”

“I’m a fire type, how can I do that?” he whined. D.O did not answer but Chanyeol felt the disapproval radiating off him.

“Sorry,” he added sheepishly but D.O didn’t seem to really care.

The silence was awkward. At least for Chanyeol, because the superhero didn’t seem uncomfortable. Just irritated. Did he really want a sidekick or did the Academy make him get one? Chanyeol wished he knew.

“What’s your name?” D.O suddenly asked and Chanyeol was ready to answer but D.O cut him off immediately. “Your sidekick name,” he clarified. “I don’t care about your real one. And I don’t want to learn it.”

Chanyeol swallowed the answer he was ready to confess. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I… don’t know yet,” he admitted.

D.O rolled his eyes. “Find a temporary one then. I should be able to call you something else than Stupid.”

The sidekick felt his cheeks getting hot. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Call me Firemark for now.”

“Firemark sounds good,” D.O said surprising him. “Why aren’t you sure?”

“I don’t know… I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.”

D.O hummed and drummed his fingers on the wheel, eyes scanning the area for possible threats. “I wasn’t sure when I started too,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And I wasn’t the one who thought of D.O, a friend was. I’m terrible at superhero names.”

“Lack of imagination?” Chanyeol teased, but D.O was suddenly on serious mode again.

“Lack of interest,” he whispered as he parked the car on the road and got out. Chanyeol released his seatbelt and got out of the car, limbs awkward and uncoordinated. Compared to D.O who stood like a statue, gazing at the dark like he could see something, he felt… small.

“Do… do you see something?” he whispered.

D.O shushed him. “I’m hearing something.”

Suddenly a scream.

Chanyeol’s hair stood up. He looked at D.O, panicking. He didn’t know what to do, he’d never saved anyone before. What if he hurt someone? What if he hurt D.O? He still didn’t know if he could burn him or not.

D.O was already running toward the noise. Chanyeol swore that he could feel the earth vibrating with every step the other man took. He tried to follow but D.O was already so far ahead. Chanyeol ran harder to catch up.

It was dark.

No lights.

No stars.

No moon.

No sound.

Chanyeol suddenly felt very insecure. They were in the middle of a city.

“Firemark,” he heard. “Lights.”

Chanyeol snapped his fingers and his blood ran cold.

He could see D.O’s back in the dark, a few meters away. And they both faced _her._

She was a beautiful woman with hair as black as night. Chanyeol’s breath was taken away as he gazed at her, noticing hazel eyes on the verge of tears and the little pout her beautiful full mouth formed. She wore a simple white dress which danced on the light breeze. The small fires that hovered in the air above them made her look ethereal, a vision straight from the moon.

Chanyeol took a step forward but D.O stopped him with his right hand. He was tense, eyes not leaving the girl, not even for a moment.

“Stay back,” he growled, fists tightening. Chanyeol looked at the girl again, her face pleading for help.

“She’s just a-” he tried to say but D.O interrupted him.

“She’s one of _them,”_ he whispered. “The coven,” he said like Chanyeol understood, “is dangerous. Stay _back.”_

Chanyeol whimpered. The girl truly seemed defenseless, was she the one who screamed?

“She’s not the victim,” D.O said like he had read Chanyeol’s mind. _Wait, was he a mind reader too?_ “She’s the hunter. Don’t get fooled, her beauty’s a weapon.”

Chanyeol swallowed.

“Keep the lights up so that I can see,” he instructed. “Don’t interfere.”

D.O made the first move and the girl seemed to notice. Somehow, her eyes became even more pleading. Chanyeol felt like he should do something. Was D.O going to hurt her?

D.O brutally attacked her, fists making a thundering sound in the air from their force. Chanyeol yelped but the girl dodged. She continued to stare at D.O with those innocent eyes, expression not changing a bit.

“Please sir,” she pleaded with a sweet voice, “I’m lost.”

If Chanyeol hadn’t just witnessed her dodging D.O he would definitely have fallen for her pleas. Still he could feel his heart beating, anxious for the result.

“What do you want here?” D.O yelled and tried to hit her again. The girl deftly avoided it and stepped further.

“Firemark, follow!”

Chanyeol tried to control the fires on the sky, not wanting to accidentally light something on fire. Was this his job? Making light for D.O in the darkness?

D.O was in full fighting mode, moves so sharp and strong that he could hear them slicing the air like thunderclaps. The girl kept dodging, bending, turning, and swirling around like it was a game. She laughed. And Chanyeol finally saw them.

_The teeth._

They were yellow and long and sharp and Chanyeol lost his concentration for a moment, his flames flickering. It was dark for a second. D.O yelled and there was a sound of cracking. Bones.

When he opened his eyes he saw her on the ground, her arm bent at a weird angle. She had blood on her teeth that was not there before. Chanyeol’s eyes widened and flew to D.O. There was blood on his neck, flowing down his black clothes. _Shit_. It was his fault. The hero held her as she fought and squirmed like a fish on a net. Despite his inhuman strength, D.O seemed to struggle, sweat running down his face and mask. He was bleeding and it was Chanyeol’s fault. D.O looked at him.

“When I release her,” he said like she could not hear him, “burn her.”

Chanyeol’s eyes widened and took a step back. “No…” he stuttered and looked at her. Her eyes were teary.

“Firemark, she can’t understand us. Do it.”

“No,” he said, voice steadier this time. “I won’t burn anyone.”

“She’s not… It’s the only way,” D.O insisted and grunted as she tried to get free again. He held her against the ground, the sound of more bones cracking attacking Chanyeol’s ears. Chanyeol saw the blood running through his hands, making his grip on her slippery. “She can’t die,” he said with obvious strain, “even if I snap her neck. Have tried it before,” he groaned. “She is extremely dangerous. _Burn her_.”

Chanyeol was shaking. “I can’t,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I don’t-”

She slipped, D.O falling to the ground. “DO IT!” he yelled and tried to catch her leg but she jumped so high in the air that he missed. Chanyeol on instinct sent a flame at her. And retrieved it right away. The girl shrieked and grabbed something in the air. Something that looked like a stick that took her far away, flying off the road.

Chanyeol breathed hard, looking up. The street lights suddenly returned and he heard D.O trying to get up. There was blood on the road.

Chanyeol went pale.

“Why didn’t you do as I said?” D.O spat as he held his neck, trying to stop the bleeding. “She got away!”

“I-” he couldn’t really speak. “I can’t burn a girl.”

“That was no girl,” he hissed. “She’ll kill ten more people before we find her again.”

Chanyeol shook his head in disbelief. “I- Are you okay?” he asked and tried to get closer. D.O stepped back.

“You’re under my orders,” he said sharply. “If you disobey me again, you’re _out._ Consider yourself lucky for being your first time.”

Chanyeol nodded, embarrassed. D.O sighed. “I need a healer,” he concluded like he was talking about the weather. “Let’s go, _Firemark_."

The sneer in his voice stabbed Chanyeol the way no other words had before.

 

[…]

 

The way to the healer was rough. Chanyeol had to drive a car that he obviously didn’t know how to handle, with hundreds of little buttons all over the place. In the passenger seat, D.O was still bleeding and searching for a towel in the car drawer.

“Can’t you use a hemostatic spray or bandage?” Chanyeol asked and looked at him worryingly.

“No,” D.O grunted. “I’ve been bitten before by her kind and believe me, it only made it worse.”

Chanyeol whimpered and tightened his hold on the wheel. He tried to concentrate on the directions the GPS gave him to find the closest healer on a night shift.

“Found it!” D.O exclaimed and pressed the towel on his neck, which immediately turned red. Chanyeol shuddered. Until now, D.O’s black suit had made the bleeding inconspicuous. D.O took a bottle of vitamin supplements out and swallowed two with a pained moan. Chanyeol pressed hard on the accelerator while D.O swore about the mess on the car.

When they finally arrived, Chanyeol had to open the passenger door and D.O tried to walk alone at first, but Chanyeol finally wrapped his hands around his shoulder and supported him as much as he could. D.O was not very heavy, which surprised him.

Lay was on medical watch that night. Before he could welcome Chanyeol, the sidekick interrupted him. “I’m Firemark,” he said anxiously and looked sideways at a very grumpy and sweaty looking D.O who grabbed at the towel on his neck. Lay widened his eyes and hurried them inside.

“What happened, Chan-”

“Firemark!” he said loudly enough that the -yeol was lost. “He’s hurt!”

“Are you okay?” Lay asked and grabbed D.O’s towel, taking a look beneath it. The hero hissed but kept still, allowing him to examine him. Lay carefully removed the towel and threw it on the the white floor. The wet sound made Chanyeol get goosebumps. “Again!” he gasped and placed his right hand over D.O’s forehead, an iridescent light coming off it. D.O seemed to relax, a moan escaping his lips.

“Cha- Firemark, out,” Lay instructed. “I need to remove his mask.”

Chanyeol nodded feeling sick to his stomach. At least he made it to the bathroom before he threw up his dinner.

 

[…]

 

It was already three o’clock in the morning. If he hadn’t been on a mission, his mother would cuff his ears for it. Chanyeol sprawled out on the floor outside the room containing Lay and D.O, the dirty, blood-soaked towel beside him. It smelled of iron and salt. He felt sick.

The door opened and Chanyeol realized that his vision was blurry even with his glasses on. Lay looked at him worriedly and knelt to check his temperature. “You’re hot,” he whispered.

Chanyeol tried to chuckle but he couldn’t. “It’s the nerves,” he lied. Lay didn’t seem convinced but Chanyeol could see that he was exhausted. How much healing did he have to do to be this drained? He had seen the healer fix massive injuries in a blink of an eye.

“D.O wants to talk to you,” he finally said. “I’m going to sleep.”

Chanyeol stood up with difficulty, trying not to show his weakness. Lay was already moving to the sleeping room and another healer he didn’t know appeared at the desk.

The door opened with a screech and he saw D.O sitting on the bed, face covered with a white medical mask. The black mask that had previously covered his face and chest was in pieces on the floor. D.O’s neck was visible and so red that Chanyeol felt sick all over again. He quietly sat on a chair, head drooping in shame.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

D.O didn’t answer and simply stared at him for a moment. He eventually sighed, his voice still altered, which made Chanyeol jump in his seat.

“Unacceptable,” he said and Chanyeol felt like disappearing from the world. “I asked you for two things and you failed at both. First she bites me because you couldn’t control your fire, then she escapes because you pity her.”

Chanyeol kept staring at his shoes, now noticing that they were covered in blood too.

D.O sighed. “It’s your first mission,” he said, but his tone was still sharp. “It’s the only reason I won’t demand your replacement. I make the decisions here, you obey. Understood? _Understood?_ ”

“Yes sir,” Chanyeol whispered. “I’m truly sorry.”

“Accepted,” he replied.

“Sir?”

“Yes.”

“Was that a witch?”

D.O blinked. “Why would you think that?”

Chanyeol dared to look at him. “She flew on a broomstick, sir.”

“She did?”

“Yes sir.”

“I guess she was a witch then.”

“There are no witches sir,” Chanyeol said and his voice trembled. “She didn’t seem… human. She was like a creature of nightmares and fairy tales.”

D.O nodded and Chanyeol noticed how much darker his eyes became. “She was not human,” he confirmed and Chanyeol widened his eyes. “I will never ask you to kill a human… _Firemark_.” He pronounced his sidekick name carefully and Chanyeol shuddered. “Trust me when I give you an order. Your first mistake is something we can work on: your control over your powers. It’s the reason you got assigned to me. The second one… control over your emotions... I don’t know how to help you with that. That’s your fight.”

Chanyeol felt like he had swallowed acid. “Aren’t they related?” he asked with a hoarse voice. “My control over my powers is affected by my emotions.”

“We all have emotions,” D.O said. “My job is to teach you how to use your powers independently. You can’t rely on emotion when you’re that strong. You should learn to use them separately; it’s the only way to control them.”

Chanyeol didn’t answer.

“Firemark… I’m not telling you to shut down your feelings. I’m telling you to trust me. Do you?”

Chanyeol looked at those eyes, those impossibly beautiful and bright eyes, even in this light. Determination filled him.

“Yes,” he breathed. “I trust you.”

 

[…]

  


It was the biggest mistake of his life.

D.O was a sadistic asshole.

Chanyeol groaned as he did another push-up, trying to keep the flames around him still. Sweat ran down his body and his palms felt slippery on the floor. The flames flickered and he heard D.O standing up from where he read his magazine.

“Careful,” he ordered and Chanyeol obeyed. “Take a deep breath. Good. Close your eyes. Do another.” Chanyeol pulled his aching muscles again. He had never thought to be grateful to Baekhyun for training him while in high school. But he was not yet on the right level, not according to D.O. “Fighting, training, and physical exercises should come naturally,” he explained. “You should be able to do them like they’re second nature. Same with your powers. Control is best when it’s instinctive, not just when you decide to concentrate. Concentration _can_ be and _will be_ _lost.” Chanyeol only groaned._

“Shouldn’t we concentrate on my powers then?” he protested. “I mean, I’m not that much of a close combat fighter.”

Wrong thing to say.

“If we lived in a world where the enemies wait for you in a field without innocents, excited to be burned, then go on Firemark, be a distance fighter,” he sneered. “Or, stay behind and light up the sky for others to see and fight for you all your life. Your choice.” Chanyeol just dropped his head.

Maybe D.O could feel mercy from time to time because after a while, he spoke again. “Firemark, you can be both. But you’re already adequate at distance fighting. Because you distance _yourself ,_ you don’t feel the shame, the fear, the pain in your opponent’s eyes.”

Chanyeol wondered how D.O knew all that. “You don’t see them bleed or hear them beg. You just snap your fingers and everything is solved.” D.O took a deep breath.

“The world doesn’t work like that. Distancing yourself will only harm you. On the other hand, you can choose to be an excellent close combat fighter. If you find control.”

Chanyeol didn’t know how D.O could see inside his soul like that and he shuddered. He felt so vulnerable around him, both physically and mentally. He wished he could share his name with him. He wished D.O would talk to _him_ and not a stranger. Not Firemark.

Then D.O returned to being the usual tyrant who tormented him and made him sweat, inflicting bruises and cuts. At the end of each day he slept like a log, not being able to do anything else than fight and train, fight and train. It didn’t help that his mother _admired_ the bruises for the wrong reasons and wouldn’t listen to him whine because “It’s all part of training, darling!”

One day Chanyeol couldn’t help himself.

“Aren’t you afraid of fire?” he asked D.O while the other played with his phone. Chanyeol was trying to climb an impossibly difficult level on the rock wall. He groaned.

He couldn’t see D.O but he could feel the sudden tension. “No.”

“Why not?” he asked breathlessly as he climbed another level. “Most people do.”

“Most people.”

“All people. Fire burns. It’s not like water where you can learn to float and swim. You can’t learn not to be burned.”

“Well,” D.O replied and his voice was amused, “I can’t get burned.” As if that was the most natural thing in the world.

Chanyeol almost fell.

“What?” he asked and tried again. This time he managed to climb further up. “ _Why?_ Are you indestructible?”

“No,” he replied and Chanyeol heard him returning to his game. He hated Candy Crush.

“You won’t tell me?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t concern you.”

“But-”

“I can’t see your puppy eyes.”

“Fine. It’s unfair. You know a lot about me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You know my powers. Why can’t I learn yours?”

“Because _I_ am your trainer and _I_ need to know your powers. You don’t need to know mine.”

Chanyeol thought about it for a minute. His arms hurt and his ears were ringing, but he felt deprived. “You know,” he suddenly said, “in the Academy they told us that communication is the key to a good team. If I don’t know your powers, how can we work together?”

He dared to turn his head a little to get a glimpse at D.O’s reaction.

D.O stared back.

“I know what is best for our team.” He paused. “And why should you know _why?_ If I say that I can’t be burned then why should I explain the reason behind it? Maybe I was born with it and can’t explain it.”

“Then you should have said so!” Chanyeol whined and D.O chuckled lightly behind him. He felt his cheeks burning from something else than sweat and exertion.

The fireballs in the air started to change sizes. D.O looked up and put the phone down on the table. “Stop. Breath. Relax. Good. Make them the previous size. A little more. Good. Go on.”

Chanyeol exhaled and tried to lift his body higher.

D.O cleared his throat. “When you manage to get on the roof of the city hall at 00.00, I will consider telling you.”

His heart beat a bit harder. “Really?” he said and cringed at the excitement on his voice.

“Maybe.”

“Unfair,” he mumbled, but managed to climb higher than he had done before.  


 

 

_End of Part One_


	2. Chapter Two

Chanyeol ran furiously, dodging the little rocks the radioactive raccoons threw at him. He somersaulted and landed on his feet as gracefully as he could. And then immediately jumped over the fence to continue chasing the Raccoon King. The animal stared at him with intelligently wicked eyes and rubbed his little hands in glee. Chanyeol wouldn’t let it escape this time. He heard the raccoons trying to climb the fence right behind him, but he had their leader cornered. Victory was his.

He cocked his head up to look at the balcony and made a sign. D.O’s head suddenly appeared, and the hero threw the portable kennel at him. Chanyeol grabbed it in mid-air and opened it with slow movements before placing it on the ground. He took a biscuit out of his pocket.

“Come here boy,” he whispered, waving the biscuit at it. “Be a good raccoon.”

The animal hissed and attacked him. Chanyeol dodged it and fell on the ground while trying to catch it. It was almost impossible, but training with D.O had given him immense patience. He didn’t want to burn the raccoon but lit tiny flames around them to stop it from escaping. The radioactive Raccoon King’s eyes revealed that it knew it had lost the battle.

When the raccoon was safely inside the box with some cookies as a treat, Chanyeol found D.O talking with Animal Control on the street. The lady thanked him, shook his hand, and took the raccoon with her to treat it and maybe explore its good side. Chanyeol smiled. D.O, on the contrary, looked bored.

“Took your time, I see.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wished he didn’t wear glasses so that D.O could see it.

“But I caught it,” he said proudly. “And I didn’t burn anything!”

“That’s a given,” D.O retorted but patted him on the back anyway. Chanyeol fell forward from the mere strength of it.

“Hey!”

D.O chuckled. While at the beginning it was unsettling to hear his mechanical laughter, Chanyeol had grown to like it, and he smiled too.

“Congrats on your first mission,” he said. “My treat.”

“Really?” Chanyeol jumped around him. “I’m a hero!” he yelled and clapped his hands.

“Hey, super boy. It’s just a mission, don’t get too cocky.”

“But I did it on my own. I wasn’t the sidekick!” Chanyeol rubbed his hands, smiling. Maybe what the raccoon had was contagious after all.

“Yes, but it was just a radioactive raccoon. Basic stuff. They fall into chemical waste all the time.”

“Don’t mess with my happiness,” he whined. “What’s your treat? Are you going to buy me dinner?” he asked excitedly, and instantly prayed for it. Chanyeol’s desire to see D.O’s face and hear his real voice only grew bigger over time. “Can we go to TGI Friday’s?”

D.O sighed. “I can buy you ice cream, I guess?”

Chanyeol’s smile faded. “Hey you cheap- oh, _ow_! Don’t hit me, that hurts!”

“ _I’m_ cheap? You’re the one who wants an expensive dinner over capturing a raccoon. A raccoon is an ice cream level of treat. If you capture a real bad guy, maybe.”

“Your maybes are killing me.”

“Don’t have too much faith in me.”

“We’re a team, aren’t I supposed to have faith in you?”

“We won’t be a team for too long.”

Chanyeol stopped on his tracks. “What?”

D.O turned to look at him with amused eyes. “Typical Pyrolysis, you sound so wounded. I meant that you’ll be a hero soon. Your improvement is amazing.”

Chanyeol wasn’t used to hearing compliments from D.O. “What- I-”

“But your new name is awful,” D.O continued. “I don’t like it.”

“Pyro- means fire and-”

“I know,” D.O interrupted him. “For some reason it doesn’t ring right.”

“Okay- But what do you mean about our team-”

“We’re not a team, you’re my temporary sidekick. Don’t look so wounded, you’d love being a hero.”

“It’s already been five months huh?” Chanyeol whispered.

“Can’t wait to get rid of you.”

“Cruel. How are you a hero?”

“Maybe I’m not.” Chanyeol could hear the smirk even though he could not see it.

“Everyone adores you. Do you have a surprise for us? I’ll have to warn my mom, she’s in love with you.”

D.O laughed. “She is? Well son, I have news-”

“Ewwwww,” Chanyeol whined. “Please don’t marry my mom. I forbid it.”

“Forbidden love,” D.O whispered. “It’s invincible. Like me.”

“Shut up,” Chanyeol laughed. He looked at D.O fondly. The past five months were challenging and painful, but despite the act D.O liked to put on, they had become quite close. Chanyeol came to realize that his snark was the way the hero expressed his feelings, and that he shouldn’t take the things D.O said too literally. He would like to think that he had made a new friend. A friend whom he didn’t know the name of or how his voice sounded or how his lips looked-

His smile dropped from his face. D.O continued walking beside him, ignorant of his sudden mood swing. Every time he begged D.O to take it a step further, D.O refused. It was usually subtle, like trying to convince him to eat dinner or go for a swim, but always futile. _Maybe D.O wasn’t that attached to him_ , he thought bitterly.

“We still have a month left though,” D.O said. “So don’t worry too much and for God’s sake find a new name, because this one _really_ sucks.”

“You told me you liked it when I chose it!”

“I lied.”

“Unfair!” he cried out and took out his notebook from his backpack. He opened the page with the bookmark and messily scribbled over the name Pyrolysis on the list. “What about- Combuster?” Chanyeol proposed. “How does that sound?”

D.O thought about it for a few seconds. They finally reached his car and they got inside. “It’s aggressive. But I don’t hate it,” he concluded.

“You don’t hate it? You are a real smooth talker.”

“It’s not bad! I just- Maybe I liked Firemark more?” D.O looked at him sideways while he drove towards his gym.

Chanyeol was silent for a while. “I didn’t feel that connected with the name,” he admitted.

“But you do with Combuster?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Can’t someone just give me a name? I don’t want to think about it!”

“So why don’t you ask someone? A close friend?”

_But I’m asking you,_ Chanyeol thought bitterly. “Yeah, I can ask my best friend.”

“A friend who knows your character and what suits you. Sometimes a friend can detect more about you than yourself.”

“You speak wisely again, oh amazing mentor.”

“Stop it, or I’ll make you do a thousand push-ups.”

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?”

“Don’t push me.”

“Fine. You’re right. I’ll ask a friend,” Chanyeol said. “Hey, wasn’t your identity given to you by a friend too? How did you decide it was right?”

D.O didn’t speak for a while. “Yes, it was a friend. I just- knew I guess?”

“Was it a super? Someone I know?”

“You overexcited puppy, stop with the questions.”

“But I want to know. Tell me!” he whined.

D.O’s eyes smiled and he rearranged his grip on the wheel.

“Fine. It was my best-,” he took a breath between,  _"friend_ ”.

Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows. “You were a team?” he asked and instantly regretted it as he saw D.O tense. “You don’t have to talk about it!” he cried out and sat up straight in his seat. D.O visibly forced himself to relax a little.

“It’s fine,” he said with a soft voice. “It’s just awkward to talk about past loves.”

Chanyeol’s heart stopped. _Loves_. It had never occurred to him that D.O had _past loves_. He suddenly felt so stupid. It hadn’t even occurred to him that D.O might have a _current_ love. Someone that waited for him at home every day, anxious to make sure he’s okay after each battle. _Very_ stupid.

“Are you okay?” D.O looked at him. “You’re breathing kinda funny.”

“Yeah- yes! I’m fine! Just surprised I guess-”

“What, don’t you think I might have a loved one?” D.O teased. “I’m not that anti-social you know.”

“I know. It’s just that- you never mentioned anyone.”

“Because I try to keep it professional, _Combuster_.”

There it was. The moment when D.O retreated into his shell like Chanyeol had burned him. Moments like these made Chanyeol want to scream, the anxiety about the nature of their relationship suffocating his heart and spreading to his head. He tried to control his breathing.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Apology accepted. We’re here.”

Chanyeol looked out of the window. “Where are we?” he asked.

“I told you I’d treat you to ice cream, didn’t I?”

“You will?”

“Yes, why not.”

Chanyeol couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. He jumped from this seat and looked at the coffee shop with starry eyes. “Thank you!” he yelled and clapped his hands _again_ , running towards the entrance.

“I think we should test you for radioactive waste too, you've been clapping your hands way too much ever since you caught that raccoon!” he heard D.O yelling at him right before he opened the door.

Looking inside, it was a cute coffee shop, with stylish furniture in warm colors and relaxing music playing in the background. The people inside were either reading or making light conversation. Chanyeol breathed in the delicious smell of freshly made coffee and pastries.

“Do they have ice cream?” he asked D.O.

“The best in town. Hey, Minseok!”

“Oh hey, Kyu- D.O! You’re here! With your sidekick!” the barista welcomed them.

Chanyeol looked at him. He reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t think of whom. “Do you have ice cream?” he asked again, and D.O pinched his arm. Chanyeol yelped.

“Yes. Have a seat, and I’ll bring you a catalog,” the man said, laughing slightly. Chanyeol rubbed his sore arm, sheepish.

“You pick the table,” D.O encouraged him. “I’ll go to the bathroom.”

Chanyeol chose the table beside the window and played with his hands, waiting restlessly. He looked outside at the road and sighed. He should be happy that D.O was buying him a treat, but for some reason he still felt sad. He wondered if he really was ready to say goodbye.

“Here’s your- Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol turned his head up and gasped.

“Baekhyun?” He sat up.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” they both hugged, Baekhyun smiling widely.

“Shh don’t tell my name out loud,” he whispered.

Baekhyun laughed. “Okay Mr. Hero, what should I call you?”

“Combuster.”

“What happened to Pyrolysis?”

“I didn’t like it that much.”

“Huh. Well, I like the new one better. What are you doing here?”

“D.O is giving me a treat! What are _you_ doing here?”

“Me?” Baekhyun looked around him with a guilty face. “I work here.”

“You work?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a sidekick?” Chanyeol felt lost. The truth was that he and Baekhyun had lost contact the past couple of months while training, but they still spoke a bit online.

“Yes. But you know, Xiumin and Chen are cool guys and let me have lots of free time. Plus they don’t wear me out the way D.O does you, so I took a part-time job to help Grandma out a little financially.”

Chanyeol knew Baekhyun better than Baekhyun knew himself and could see right through his lies. He looked at the barista behind Baekhyun, and then at Baekhyun again. When he saw the guy at the register and his kittenish smirk, everything fell into place.

“Shhhh, don’t talk,” Baekhyun whispered and closed Chanyeol’s mouth with his palm. “They don’t take advantage of me, I really need the money and they really did have the kindness to let me work here. _Really_.”

“Baekhyun why didn’t you tell me-”

“What’s going on?” D.O suddenly appeared.

Baekhyun straightened his back.

“Hello!” he said cheerfully and then turned to Chanyeol again. “I really recommend the pistachio flavor. You can add a milk chocolate scoop too.”

Chanyeol looked at him intensely. “Right,” he finally returned, and smiled awkwardly. “I’ll have that.”

“And you sir?” Baekhyun turned to D.O.

“Nothing, thank you,” he said, and sat on the opposite seat.

 

[…]

 

Training was particularly hard that day. D.O tried to punch him, fists booming like thunder in Chanyeol’s ears. but he managed to dodge them. Chanyeol did a side flip towards the wall, stepping on it to swirl into the air and landing two feet away from D.O. His mentor raised an eyebrow and charged at him again.

“I swear that sometimes I think you can fly,” he grunted and tried to catch him by the right leg but Chanyeol blocked him. It didn’t really count because D.O could easily crash his bone with that move, but he let it pass. The hero maneuvered again, this time trying to slam his hand into Chanyeol’s face. Chanyeol made a fire shield just in time and ducked, distracting his opponent.

D.O’s hand was on fire, but the hero quickly patted it out. To Chanyeol’s relief, he didn’t even flinch at being on fire, and came at him again.

“The point is not to avoid me forever, it’s to take me out!” he said, impressively calm considering the fact that he was basically trying to pulverize Chanyeol’s bones. Chanyeol just stared back for a second and that was it. D.O’s kick forced his legs to leave the ground, and he landed on his back with a loud thump.

“Ouch.”

“Always the same.”

“You’ve never defeated me that way before,” he protested, and accepted the hand D.O gave him to help him up. He followed him to the small infirmary to treat a small wound on his knee.

D.O made him sit across from him and gently rubbed some antibacterial ointment on his leg. Chanyeol couldn’t help but notice how beautiful D.O’s eyes were, when they were concentrated like that. There was a softness to the usual harsh look.

“I wasn’t talking about the move,” D.O said as he fumbled for some more bandages. “I was talking about your concentration when someone is talking to you.”

“I don’t-”

“And about your reluctance to attack.”

Chanyeol's breath caught and for a moment, the only sound present was D.O ripping open the new package of bandages. D.O moved his sidekick’s knee to his lap.

“Defense is fine and all, but your job is to attack too,” he continued. “I know it’s hard for you but you’re not always going to deal with animals and minor threats. One day, you’ll have to make the decision to attack someone.”

“I don’t want to attack anyone-”

“It’s for the greater good.”

“How do you know? I can’t just go around burning people-”

“I’m not telling you to start randomly burning people.” D.O finally let his leg fall, the bandage now secure on his knee. “I’m telling you that you’ll have to confine some morally ambiguous humans. Who will try to kill you given the first chance.”

“It doesn’t mean I have the right to hurt them.”

“But you won’t hurt them. You’ll capture them and hand them over to justice.”

Chanyeol dropped his head.

D.O suddenly took his chin into his hand. Chanyeol trembled with surprise and looked right into D.O’s eyes.

“I wish I could see your eyes,” D.O said, “so that I could understand what you feel.”

“I-”

“Don’t show me.”

Chanyeol felt blood rushing to his cheeks and nodded. He took a step back, needing more distance between them. D.O dropped his hand.

“You won’t hurt anyone,” D.O said. “I don’t know how this phobia of yours developed, but I’m sure you’ll be careful and do a good job.”

Chanyeol swallowed. “It’s not that easy.”

“Maybe it is.”

“No, it’s not. I- I know I’ll hurt someone and I can’t- I can’t send flames at you even when I know that they won’t even bother you. I can’t consciously make the decision to do that to someone, it’s- _horrendous_.

“I make the decision to break bones every day. Am I _horrendous_?”

“Of course not!” Chanyeol protested and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s just that- Have you ever been burnt?” he whispered.

D.O just stared at him.

“No,” he replied, but his voice wavered and took a step closer. “Have you?”

Chanyeol gasped and a flame exploded out from his chest, setting his shirt on fire. He yelped in horror, hitting his chest and trying to put off the flame. He fell on the floor, placing his head between his knees after it was over.

“Combuster-”

“Don’t call me that!” he stammered. “I’m not _him_ ,” he whispered as he rocked back and forth.

D.O was beside him as Chanyeol’s whole body shook from shock. He suddenly felt D.O trying to remove his glasses but Chanyeol shuffled backwards, refusing to let him see. “Don’t.”

The hero just looked at him. “It’s okay,” he said. “Just breathe.”

Chanyeol tried to do just that. Eventually, his breathing began to even out and he relaxed, collapsing onto the floor. His body felt too hot, clothes already smoking and smudging the floor of the gym.

D.O didn’t say anything, instead choosing to silently bring over a bucket of ice water. Chanyeol took it gratefully and poured some over him, the water instantly evaporating.

After a few minutes of dead silence, Chanyeol finally spoke.

“You know that my powers keep developing, right? I’m an evolutionary type. It’s actually quite rare.”

D.O hummed in response as he grabbed a mop and started cleaning up the soot. Chanyeol had long before noticed that cleaning relaxed him.

He took a deep breath. “That means that when I first got them, I still didn’t have all the powers I have now.” He swallowed. “When I was ten, I first found out that I was a pyrokinetic. Meaning that I could manipulate fire, light things up, put things out…  I was so _excited_.” He chuckled bitterly. “But being pyrokinetic doesn’t mean flame immunity,” he whispered. D.O stopped his movements at once, and turned to face him. Chanyeol didn’t dare to look into D.O’s eyes. He just sniffled.

“You-” He heard the mop hitting the floor, and D.O was suddenly a lot closer.

“For five years I was not flame immune,” he said trembling. “And I would burn myself every single day.” Chanyeol felt the familiar knot in his throat but he tried to be strong. “Most days were small burns. Some days I just woke up to a bed on fire and my mom had to take me to the hospital for excessive burn healing treatments. One time my whole skin and body just- _melted_.”

He breathed raggedly.

“That time, my mom really thought I had died. All I remember now is the pain. Every second was like an eternity, and after a while it wasn’t even me, it was like a different creature took over and I just- melted. This,” he touched his hair, “red hair; it happened after that incident.”

He felt D.O patting his hair timidly and he responded to the touch. He tilted his head and closed his eyes. D.O stroked his hair more firmly.

“It was very scary,” he admitted. “And I’m full of scars too.” He pulled up his right sleeve over his elbow, revealing reddened skin full of old burn scars. D.O lightly touched the scarred skin, like he was afraid that it would hurt.

“The only place I don’t have them is my face because I wanted to look normal,” he continued. “But it took a long time for the healers even to do that. And all my friends say that my eyes are too googly to be normal.” He chuckled a bit at that.

“You don’t have to laugh about it,” D.O whispered.

“I know. But it’s the only way I can think about it without crying.”

D.O didn’t talk for a while, playing with Chanyeol’s hair. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “For pressuring you. I shouldn’t-”

“You didn’t know. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t know. But I was an asshole to you about it. I’m sorry.”

“You were,” Chanyeol tried to smile. “It really is okay.”

“Still. But can I ask you- Why did you decide to be a super?”

Chanyeol tensed. “What-”

“I don’t mean to offend you,” D.O explained and retreated his hand. “Just that you’re a… sensitive boy. In a good way. You don’t want to hurt anyone and all _this_ must be very hard on you. Why get through the process? Not all metahumans have to be supers, you know.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But it was always my dream. Even before having my powers.”

D.O looked skeptical. “Is a childhood dream really worth it? You can use your powers on other fields. Be a firefighter.”

“Then all the other firefighters would get fired because they would be useless,” Chanyeol chuckled, and D.O lightly tapped his nose.

“You know what I mean. You’re very _compassionate_. Very prone to understanding the feelings of others. Maybe a career on that?”

“You’re seriously giving me vocational guidance right now?”

“Maybe.”

“I really want to be a super and help people.”

D.O shook his head. “That’s not the only way to help people. Especially when you get hurt.”

Chanyeol stayed quiet after that. “I don’t know-” he stopped. “I don’t know who I want to be,” he said right after.

“You don’t want to be Combuster,” D.O stated.

“No. I’m Ch-”

“Shh. I want you to hear me out on this. Don’t come here again unless you know it.”

“What?” Chanyeol widened his eyes and shakily sat up.

D.O sat up too and straightened his back, taking his usual defensive pose. “Don’t come here unless you have your superhero name and the confidence that you _want_ it,” he said sternly.

“Are you kicking me out-”

“I’m doing you a favor. You’re not cut out for this job. I don’t think it suits you.”

“You don’t know what suits me-”

“I’ve been training you for five months,” his voice was now razor-sharp. “And not even one day did I think that you were made for this. If you’ll end up dead, it’s just a waste of time. And it’s a shame. I don’t want you as my sidekick, and I will never give my approval for your hero promotion unless I’m sure you can do it.”

Chanyeol was speechless.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Earlier you told me that I'd be a great hero and now you tell me this? I opened my heart to you,” he mumbled, “and you reply with _this_?”

“I made a decision for you-”

“You’re in no place to make a decision for me!” he yelled.

“I’m the only one with the right to do so! Don’t forget that I’m the one who decides if you can be a hero.”

“And I told you that I want to be one! Doesn’t my opinion matter? Why kick me out?”

D.O took a deep breath and smacked his palm on his forehead, defeated.

“I’m not kicking you out,” he said calmly. “You jumped to the wrong conclusion. I said, _find out who you are_ and then I’ll have you back. Why are you reacting like it’s the end of the world?”

“I-”

“It’s because you know you can’t do it.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I’m not. It’s obvious.”

Chanyeol kicked the floor and let out a shout of frustration, sparks flying off his body.

“Please don’t burn down my gym.”

“Don’t tell me what to do! I’m not your sidekick anymore, remember?”

“You’re being immature.”

“You’re being an asshole,” he yelled, gesturing at D.O wildly. A white flame flew off of his hand, engulfing D.O who suddenly panicked as the flame burned through his clothes. His mask fell into pieces. He gasped and turned around, hiding his face from a gaping Chanyeol.

D.O quickly put the white flames out and grabbed a towel from the nearby table, placing it over the bottom half of his face. His eyes burned with rage and Chanyeol took a step back.

“Are you okay-”

“Get. Out,” he hissed, his voice not mechanically altered for the first time. Chanyeol shuddered, opening his mouth to protest.

“I’m-”

“For five months, I helped you every time you crumbled, I listened to you whine like you were the only one suffering, I gave you chances to prove yourself, space to sort things out, and _you_ decide to act like a brat throwing a tantrum. I have absolutely no obligation to help you. You know damn well that I could just give my evaluation and you’d end up as someone else’s sidekick for your entire life. And yet you dare yell at me, throw flames outside of practice time and burn my belongings. _Get out_."

Chanyeol widened his eyes. “You don’t mean-”

“ _And don’t come back_. I’ll tell them I couldn’t evaluate you. Your choice what to do next. _Out_ ,” he said and slammed his fist so hard on the table beside him that it crumbled under the force.

Chanyeol opened his mouth to talk but closed it again, feeling the tears running inside his glasses.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered and turned his back, running towards the exit.

D.O looked around him, the gym suddenly on white fire that burned through everything.

 

[…]

 

“Chanyeol, are you okay?” his mom knocked on his door.

Chanyeol’s entire body shook from crying too much and he gasped for air. “Chanyeol, please unlock the door!”

“He was kicked out,” he heard his sister saying. “He had a fight with D.O.”

“S-stop li-listening t-to my th-thoughts!” he hiccuped, crying even harder.

“I think he _liked_ him,” Yoora continued, and Chanyeol screamed. His bed was suddenly full of these weird white flames and he breathed deeply to make them go away.

“Chanyeol…” his mom said again, in a defeated tone. “Please open the door so that we can talk about it.”

“No.”

“If it was just a fight, maybe you can sort it out. Talk about it.”

“No, you don’t understand.”

“He’s a super, I’m sure you can both handle it maturely.”

“He doesn’t want me!” he cried out. “And he said that I’m not cut out for it. That I’m not fit for the job.”

There was silence.

Chanyeol widened his eyes, abruptly sat up and walked to the door. He unlocked it and saw two visibly shaken women staring back at him.

“You think about it too,” he stated weakly.

“Chanyeol-”

He collapsed on the floor and banged his head on the door.

“Don’t be dramatic,” his sister said hesitantly.

“Am I? Dramatic?”

She didn’t answer.

“You know how much I wanted this. How much I want it,” he begged. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Yoora just looked at him like she didn’t know how to respond. Chanyeol whined.

“You want this,” she finally said. “But you also don’t.”

He laughed bitterly. “Please. Confuse me more.”

“It’s not that complicated,” she said and sat on the floor too. Their mother hovered over them. “You want it because it’s your childhood dream. You used to play superheroes with Baekhyun all the time and you daydreamed all day about saving people. But you’re sensitive too. You can’t hurt a fly, and you’re traumatized by your powers. You want to help people, but you don’t want to hurt anyone in the process. Having panic attacks over this- is it worth it?”

“It’s just a phase,” he whispered. “I’ll get over it.”

“Maybe. Or maybe not,” she said, and took his hand in hers.

“Mom,” he cried.

“Chanyeol, maybe you should consider it again,” his mom said. “What about music? You used to dream about being a musician too. And you know how gifted you are. What about that?”

“It’s not the same,” he whispered. “Everyone can be a musician if they try hard enough. I want to help with _my_ powers.”

His mother bit her bottom lip, not knowing how to respond.

“I think he--D.O-- is right,” Yoora said after a short while. “About telling you to take time to sort things out. Decide first if you can handle this, and then take the final turn. It’s not bad to take time, Chanyeol. And it’s not bad to take care of yourself. You’re not selfish for prioritizing yourself. ”

“But still, he kicked me out.”

“He was angry. I’m sure that if you go and talk to him again, he’ll listen to you.”

“Really?” he sniffled.

“Certainly,” she smiled.

Chanyeol smiled back weakly.

“Kids,” their mother said trying to hold up tears. “I haven’t seen you smile at each other since you were ten.”

“That’s because she violates my privacy!” Chanyeol yelled, and at that the whole family burst into laughter.

“You’re a disgusting little brother,” his sister teased and ruffled his hair. “But at least you’re not Baekhyun. Lucky you, you can’t hear his pervy thoughts.”

Chanyeol thought about it. “What are Baekhyun’s thoughts about this?” he asked.

His sister raised her eyebrows. “It’s Baekhyun’s choice to answer.”

“Come on. It won’t be the first nor the last time you revealed someone’s thoughts. I just wonder,” he whispered.

“I think you already know what Baekhyun thinks, Chanyeol.”

“Yes, but I want to hear it from you too.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “He’s concerned about you. And wants to protect you, of course. It’s part of the reason why he tried to take your opponents alone on your final test.”

Chanyeol’s jaw dropped.

“He doesn’t want you to feel anxious,” she continued. “But he does believe that you can be a great hero. You just need time. We all believe that you need time, Chanyeol.”

“And maybe therapy?” his mom added. “You’ve been refusing to do it, but maybe you’ll be able to understand yourself better.”

Chanyeol nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good boy,” his mother said and smiled. “Now then. I think it’s time for all of us to go to bed.” She yawned and looked at her son’s room. “Why is your bed burned?” she asked and walked inside.

Chanyeol turned his head to look and shrugged his shoulders. “I think I had a new evolution,” he said.

Mrs. Park looked shocked. “You can now burn through inflammable fabric?” she asked and went to touch the sheets. They immediately crumbled into ash.

Chanyeol averted his eyes and got up from the floor. “I guess,” he mumbled, scuffing his toe on the floor.

“Chanyeol, this is serious! When did this start?”

“I don’t know… Today?”

His sister and mother just looked each other with expressions that he did not like at all.

“This obviously shook you more than I thought.”

“Mom-”

“Your evolutions usually appear after you experience a strong emotional shock,” she interrupted, crossing her arms.

“Which happens to you a _lot_ ,” his sister added.

“Shut up,” he told her and looked at his mother again. “I’m fine now. I promise.”

“Does it burn you?” she asked and Chanyeol froze.

“I- I don’t know.”

His mother’s face turned white and Chanyeol tried not to panic. “I’m sure it will be fine,” he consoled her, but really, he was terrified himself.

 

[ … ]

 

Chanyeol couldn’t sleep for what seemed like hours. Checking the clock, he realized that only an hour had passed. He flung the sheets that felt suffocating off of him, and got up. Taking a deep breath, he slowly dressed up, trying to make as little noise as possible. His mother wouldn’t appreciate him sneaking out at such an hour.

But he had no other choice. He had to see D.O and explain. Apologize, too, because _he had been_ immature. A part of him insisted that D.O should have been more patient but he quickly disregarded it. He needed to make amends and not be stubborn.

He chose to walk to the gym, despite the hordes of drunk people on the streets staring at him and calling him names. Ignoring them, he adjusted his glasses to see better in the dark. He thought about buying a beer too, but he decided against it. Better not to have any alcohol with D.O close.

Meeting him was a long shot. The hero would probably be home, sleeping his anger off. Still, Chanyeol continued to walk and think about all the possible ways he could make D.O forgive him.

Until he smelled smoke and was suddenly on alert.

In a flash, everything was dark.

In the middle of a city, there was no light.

Chanyeol immediately kindled a handful of small flames, the red light illuminating the road and creating shadows that made him shudder. This reminded him awfully of his first mission. Despite the fires, he felt very cold and he took the final turn to the gym. He stopped.

The gym was burning.

The flames were white, exactly like the ones he made earlier when he was mad. The light produced was not luminous, but rather… unearthly. Chanyeol stared for a few seconds, panic overtaking over his body.

D.O couldn’t be inside.

_Please, don’t be inside._

And even if he was, D.O was indestructible, _right_?

_No, these flames seemed to burn him._

_Fuck._

Chanyeol tried to control them, make them disappear. It had worked on his bed before, why not now? Taking a deep breath, he tried. And failed. The flames acted like they had a personality. All that happened was a quiver. Chanyeol swore out loud.

“Make them go away!” Chanyeol turned, taken aback from the yell.

D.O was standing behind him, his eyes dumbstruck, looking at the gym.

“I can’t,” he said and D.O yanked at his hand with so much force that Chanyeol hissed.

“What are you doing? Put out this fire or else, I swear-”

“I told you I can’t!” Chanyeol said again and got his hand free of D.O’s bruising grip. “I can’t control them yet!”

“ _You_ ,” D.O said, “You made this mess, now fix it.”

Chanyeol tried to concentrate again. The flames seemed to make fun of him, their glow turning brighter.

“Are you kidding-” D.O was suddenly thrown on the road with a grunt.

Chanyeol took a sharp breath, and took a step back. There was a form _on top of_ D.O and _it was a girl_.

_The witch._

Chanyeol was ready to send his fire at her until he remembered: he wasn’t sure if he could control it. In the meanwhile, D.O managed to escape her iron grip by breaking her left arm. He seemed sweaty, surprise in his wide eyes. It was a look that Chanyeol didn't like in D.O, who was always so even-tempered.

Chanyeol had never seen him so stunned.

The witch struck back. D.O easily blocked her.

“What is this?” he grunted. “What do you want?”

The witch just smiled with her sharp teeth. Chanyeol contemplated if he could help until he saw the shadow.

There was another.

Another that came right at him, her laugh echoing in the streets and making his blood freeze.

He barely managed to avoid her nails. This one had white hair and black eyes, her beauty even more ethereal than the first, if that was possible. She twisted and kicked but he blocked every single one of her hits. He might not be as strong as D.O, but he knew he could fight.

And on a whim, he decided to counter-attack. His kick found her stomach and she yelled but it did not stop him. He punched her chin and he made her trip, losing her balance and falling on the street.

D.O was still occupied with the black haired one. Chanyeol knew it was now or never.

He sent flames at her. Vibrant red flames that burned through her black outfit and-

Did nothing at all except expose her body.

The witch laughed again and fluttered her eyelashes at him in mockery.

Chanyeol gasped and took a step back. He could see D.O in his peripheral vision. D.O, whose gym he had burned. And had totally disappointed.

D.O who was probably right. About _everything_.

Chanyeol screamed.

And white fire emerged.

The witch’s howl was terrifying.

For the first time, her emotions seemed human. No trick of light, no pretence. She touched her torso, her hands catching fire too. Her face was in agony, twisted in a soundless scream for a few seconds, before it caught on fire as well.

Chanyeol averted his eyes, abandoning her body on the street. D.O was still struggling with the other witch. He tried to make out if he was injured and was relieved when he saw no apparent trace of blood.

“D.O!” he screamed and pointed at the lifeless body on the street, which was still burning. “Get out!”

D.O barely nodded before stomping his foot on the ground, creating a crater in the street. Not a typical move for him--he liked to be clean and tidy even when fighting. The witch fell backwards from the strength of the blow, and the hero found the chance to jump on the top part of her body, twisting her neck with a sickening sound. Still, she was alive.

But he had the chance to retreat. D.O ran away as Chanyeol managed to transfer white flames from the white-haired one to engulf her. She was instantly on fire, her screaming even worse than her sister’s.

D.O approached him, his eyes never leaving the two bodies.

“They don’t smell,” he observed.

“What?” Chanyeol asked.

“It’s weird that they produce no smell while burning,” he explained and finally looked at him. He patted his back but it was awkward. “Good job,” he said.

Chanyeol nodded.

“I still don’t forgive you for the gym though,” he said after a while. “Do you know how much that cost me?”

“I’m sorry!” Chanyeol cried, and bowed repeatedly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean- I don’t know how- I mean I don’t-”

D.O chuckled. Chanyeol stopped mid-bow and looked at him.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “For now, I’ll call the State, you go home.”

Chanyeol didn’t move. “But the fire-”

“You can’t control it, right?” D.O interrupted him. “It’s okay, we’ll take it out the traditional way. Firefighters are on the way.”

Chanyeol bit his lip. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“They’ll be careful. I promise.”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow. “You’re too nice,” he accused. “What’s going on?”

D.O didn’t talk for a while. “You did a good job,” he finally said and turned his back to Chanyeol, greeting the firefighters who had just arrived on the scene.

“Hey!” Chanyeol yelled.

“Go home, Combuster,” he replied, and Chanyeol was left standing alone.

 

[... ]

 

His journey home was not easy. His entire body ached from the fight and his tongue and throat tasted like acid. Chanyeol wanted to sleep that experience off. Maybe stay in bed for a couple of days.

It was a mistake that he didn’t catch it sooner.

The eerie darkness had returned.

First, it was the unnatural lack of sound.

Then the lights were off.

Chanyeol looked around him in alarm.

He was just a minute away from his house.

_No._

He ran.

Fumbling with his keys, he yelled for his mother and sister. No answer. That was not a good sign.

The inside was dark too.

He felt a chill on the back of his neck. His mother always kept the light over the kitchen counter on.

“Mom?” his voice quivered.

“Hello,” a silky bass voice greeted him.

Chanyeol turned, his whole body tense and ready to fight. The living room’s table lamp was on, emanating a yellow light. He expected to see his mother and sister tied up, but there was only a man sitting on the sofa like he owned the place.

He looked about fifty years old, face rough from tiredness and etched with the cruelty of many years. Dressed in an elegant tuxedo, he sat with his legs crossed and held a glass of rum. His mother’s _favorite_ rum, that _no one_ was allowed to touch. Chanyeol felt the urge to scold him.

“Who are you?” he said instead, flatly.

The man simply smiled. “I’m the Commander. The one and only,” he replied and sipped his drink.

Chanyeol was on the verge of losing his patience, little flames moving between his fingers.

That seemed to catch the man’s attention, who raised his eyebrows and sat up from the sofa.

“What do you want?” Chanyeol asked defiantly.

“Don’t be so aggressive,” he joked, a sly look on his face. Chanyeol shivered at the sheer sliminess he felt from listening to the man. “I just want to talk.”

“Where’s my mom and sister?” Chanyeol asked again, desperately. He wanted to hurt this man who dared enter their house uninvited, but he couldn’t do so, not until he knew his family was safe.

“Obviously they are not here.”

_Fucker._

Chanyeol took a deep breath.

“Cut to the chase,” he grunted.

The Commander smiled and Chanyeol felt the urge to punch him. Whatever he was, he was definitely connected to the witches. He could feel it in the strangeness of the atmosphere surrounding the man, like he had... swallowed the light and sound and everything happy in the world.

“I want you to carry out a job for me,” he said.

Chanyeol gasped in disgust. “You’re blackmailing me,” he accused.

“Don’t be so negative,” the man was quick to reply. “We can talk about the terms. But first, put those flames out. ”

Chanyeol didn’t.

“I have your sister and mother as hostages.”

He felt tears gathering but held them back. He needed to be strong, if not for himself, but for Yoora and Mom.

“What do you want?” he repeated and this time he blew out the sparks. “First I’ll see my family, and only then will I make a deal with you.”

“You’re in no position to negotiate,” the Commander replied smoothly, placing his empty glass on the table.

“How would I know that you haven’t hurt them already?” Chanyeol asked, hoping the man would fall into his trap. If he met his mother and sister he could probably save them. _Probably._

“That’s true,” the man agreed, to Chanyeol’s surprise. “If you insist, you should follow me. Come here.” He waved him over.

Chanyeol was at a loss for what he should do. It felt too easy. He hesitantly took a step towards the man.

“Follow you where?” he asked. The Commander stood in front of the living room wall, staring at it. Chanyeol coughed awkwardly, but he didn’t move.

Suddenly a black shadow appeared. Which became bigger and bigger until it covered the whole surface.

Chanyeol took a step back in awe and fear. “What-” he mumbled to himself. The Commander turned his head to look at him.

“Well, after you,” he purred, and pushed him into the blackness.

 

[...]

 

The first thing he saw was the throne.

_A throne?_

It was big and black, with shadows sprouting in every direction. The texture seemed like smoke, if smoke could appear smooth and silky.

Beside it was a witch, holding a knife over his mother’s throat.

“Mom!” Chanyeol yelled, stepping forward, but the Commander raised a hand to stop him. Chanyeol widened his eyes as the man smiled wickedly and headed towards the throne. He sat in one fluid motion. When Chanyeol tried to take another step, the witch’s hold on his mother became tighter.

He froze.

“Tsk, tsk, be a good boy,” he purred.  Chanyeol’s heart raced like crazy. “Move your fingers even a millimeter and I kill them both.”

Chanyeol didn’t even dare to nod. He turned his eyes at the direction he indicated and saw a screen, showing his sister tied up in a chair, blood gushing out of her forehead. She tried to scream something but her gag didn’t let her. Chanyeol noticed she was crying. He had never seen her cry.

“Now,” the Commander said, “I see that I finally have your undivided attention. Tell me about D.O.”

Chanyeol looked at him surprised. “What do you mean?”

“What’s his weakness?” the Commander said sharply. “Tell me and I will let them live.”

He felt a stab in his heart and looked at his family, bloody and bruised, ready to be executed like animals. He felt a burning behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. “What do you mean?” he repeated.

The knife drew blood.

“What,” the Commander spoke slowly, emphasizing each syllable, “Is. His. Weakness.”

“I don’t know!” he said, taking a very deep breath and trying to remain still. “I really don’t know. He’s indestructible--I--I don’t know.”

The Commander’s gaze turned frigid. The witch lowered the knife and with a smooth move, kicked his mother, who dropped to her knees. The Commander pulled a gun from his blazer and aimed at her head, cocking it. “Liar,” he hissed.

“I-”

Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder and he turned, startled, only to see a witch beside him.

“Hello, Fireheart,” she purred, sensually rubbing her hands on his chest. Chanyeol wanted to vomit. The witch bent her head and he felt her nose tracing the side of his neck, making him tremble. Keeping him still with her iron strength, she took a deep sniff. “Liar,” she confirmed and smiled. “I can smell it on you.”

Chanyeol looked at her petrified. “I don’t…”

“Think better, boy,” she said and sniffed again, her teeth dangerously close to his neck. He shuddered. “Indestructible? Are you sure?”

Chanyeol tried to think again. “He’s not,” he confirmed and swallowed hard. “But I don’t know why. I mean how. I don’t know why he’s not indestructible, because- he seems to be. I don’t know his weakness.”

The Commander looked at his witch and she nodded. “He’s telling the truth,” she confirmed. He dropped the gun and he screamed. _A madman,_ Chanyeol thought. _A madman for sure._

_“_ You,” he yelled, “You killed my witches. With liquid fire.” He stabbed a finger in Chanyeol’s direction. “Destroyer and Maker,” he mumbled. “Because _you_ can either destroy him or make him a hero. _You._

_“_ Excuse me?” Chanyeol asked and widened his eyes. _Madman._ The witch’s nails scraped his arm and he winced.

“The prophecy,” she said.

“Prophecy? I don’t know anything about a prophecy!” he tried to defend himself.

“I give you a choice,” the Commander said. “Kill D.O and I will spare your women.”

“What-”

The Commander raised the gun again.

“But I can’t kill him!” Chanyeol yelped and felt his eyes tearing. “He’s stronger than me! And he can’t be burned.” It was his only hope, he had to make them understand that-

“Witches don’t get burned either,” the witch said coldly. “It’s a myth we spread to protect ourselves. But you killed them with liquid fire. The only kind that truly burns because it purifies.”

“I- I don’t follow you.”

“Kill him with liquid fire and your family lives,” she said. “I don’t know about you though.”

Chanyeol shook his head. “No- I- I can’t control it,” he insisted. “It happened a few times, I don’t know how-”

“Learn how,” the Commander ordered coldly.

Chanyeol felt tears flow down his cheeks, soaking even through his protective glasses. The witch smiled and _licked_ them, making him whimper. “If I fail,” he murmured weakly, “what then?”

The Commander seemed amused for a moment. “You see, Fireheart-” he paused and smiled at Chanyeol’s confusion. “Oh, that look on your face is so precious. Why do you think I keep calling you that? It’s the prophecy,” he said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“When I first summoned my first creatures,” he continued, “they were dark species from dimensions who lived deep below in the darkness. They can _hear_ everything that happens, feel the pulses of the possibilities running through the universe.” Chanyeol whimpered. “Those were the creatures who told me the paths I could take, the greatness I could achieve. But every villain has an archenemy and mine is _D.O_.” He spat the name in his disgust. “Fortunately, where there is a hero, there is a prophecy. And with their help, I found ours.” He gestured at the witch, who opened her mouth obediently.

The witch’s voice was crystal clear, singing into his ear:

_“When the daughters of darkness cry,_   
_The message shall draw nigh,_   
_Of perishing immortality and purifying flames._   
_Destroyer and Maker, the one with two names,_   
_If Fireheart joins and adds his might,_   
_Then the brother of Antaeus shall bring the light.”_

Chanyeol tried to move but she held him steady.

“You see, from what I get, it means that _one_ of you should die,” he said cheerfully. “I only captured you, because, well, you’re easier to capture _and_  blackmail. I don’t actually care which one of you dies.”

Chanyeol looked at him, and then at his mom, who tried to squirm, her eyes pleading him to fight. He looked away.

“What makes you think it’s us?” he whispered. “Why _us?”_

“Of course it’s you,” the Commander said coldly. “And if I wasn’t sure enough before, I certainly am now, after you killed two of my darling witches. Do you know how much energy it takes to bring one to this dimension?”

He shook his head, as if he was explaining the obvious.

“It’s as clear as day. ‘The message shall draw nigh’ only ‘when the daughters of darkness cry.’ They only cry if they lose one of their own. Which has never happened because they couldn't die... until you killed them. Thus, a message to me that I need to act. ‘Perishing immortality’ from fire which purifies. ‘ _Fireheart._ ’ And if I wasn’t sure if D.O was the brother of Antaeus before, then I am now after seeing you two work together. Makes perfect sense.”

_It does?,_ Chanyeol thought. _Why?_

"I don’t think D.O has a brother named Antaeus though,” he said, and then begged, “Please, just let us go.”

The Commander laughed. “Antaeus was a villain,” he said. “Son of Poseidon and Gaea, he appeared indestructible. Being super strong, he challenged opponents and killed them all. But you see, he cheated. As long as his feet touched the earth, his parents gave him the strength to defeat any opponent. Until Hercules challenged him and saw through his act. Hercules lifted him into the air, cutting the cord between him and his mother, and was able to kill him. Sound familiar?”

Chanyeol lifted his head and looked at him. D.O's fighting style suddenly made a lot of sense. “You do know his weakness,” he whispered. “Why-”

“Because D.O assumes that every opponent knows his weakness,” he interrupted him. “Clever man. And no creature I’ve ever sent after him has managed to lift him off the ground to test my theory.” He sounded bitter.

“And now you know but he doesn’t suspect it.” At this, he smiled evilly. “Time for you to take advantage of it.”

_No,_ Chanyeol thought. _No, no, no._

“Kill him, or get killed, I don’t care. Or your family dies. I _will_ be watching you.”

His mother made a noise that made his heart break.

 

[...]

 

 

Chanyeol looked at his phone anxiously. D.O had replied with a simple O.K. to meet him at the top of the city hall.

It was midnight.

Chanyeol shuddered from the cold and rubbed his hands as he saw D.O appearing from the south edge of the building.

“So you just climbed,” he rasped.

D.O chuckled. “How else?” he replied and landed on his feet. “You really thought I could fly?”

Chanyeol didn’t answer.

Maybe D.O sensed that something was wrong because he suddenly straightened his back, like he was ready to fight.

“You made me a promise,” Chanyeol said, “that if I managed to meet you here at midnight, you would tell me why you’re fireproof.”

D.O’s eyes seemed surprised, but his posture relaxed. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Honestly?” he laughed, a dull, hopeless sound. “No.”

“If it’s about my gym-”

“Can you answer me?” he interrupted him. “Please?”

D.O contemplated it for a moment. “I guess I can tell you,” he said mostly to himself.

Chanyeol looked at him, astonished.

“My mother’s a pyrokinetic,” he admitted. Chanyeol felt his chest tightening.

“Your mother?” he stuttered.

“Of course I have a mother,” D.O tried to joke. “Sometimes you seem so clueless.”

_Of course he has a mother_ , Chanyeol thought. _And I’m here to kill him._

“And?” he tried to distract himself from the sick feeling in his stomach.

“Typical embryo adaption to survive,” D.O replied. “It’s quite common on metahumans. You learn it in Biology. Guess someone wasn’t a top student.”

“Guess not,” he said weakly.

“Comb-”

“It’s Chanyeol.”

D.O tensed.

Chanyeol smiled bitterly.

“I was sent here to kill you,” he said and ruffled his own hair, like he was talking about something simple, like the weather. He did not dare to look at D.O, instead choosing to gaze at the horizon behind him.

D.O didn’t move. “What do you mean?”

“There’s this man,” Chanyeol said, “he calls himself the Commander. Do you know him?”

“No,” D.O said coldly.

“He insists that you are his archenemy. He’s probably watching us right now.” He took a deep breath. “He is holding my mother and sister hostage.”

“Comb- Chanyeol,” D.O said and took a step closer.

Chanyeol felt his knees wobble and collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. His stomach tightened and he dry-heaved. Nothing came out, since he hadn’t eaten all day. D.O was now standing above him, hovering like he didn’t know how to react.

“He told me that one of us should die,” he managed to say, “or my family dies.” Chanyeol sniffled loudly and let out a small whimper.

“Calm down.” The other man tried to soothe him and caressed his back. “Tell me everything from the beginning.”

And Chanyeol did. Told him how he returned home, how he saw the man and talked to him, how he teleported him to his lair. D.O seemed to tense at the description of the Commander’s power but he let him talk. Chanyeol described the witches.

“He told me about a prophecy,” he cried, “and called me ‘Fireheart’. And he claimed he knows your weakness because of Antaeus-” He gasped for air before continuing, afraid that he was not going to be able to explain fast enough. “He said that one of us should die or my mother and sister…”

D.O seemed more alarmed than he had ever witnessed. “We should go to the State,” he said. “We can help you-”

“No,” he interrupted and sat up with quivering movements. D.O took a step back, giving him space.

“What do you mean by ‘no’?” asked D.O. “Are you going to kill me?”

Chanyeol looked at him as he slowly removed his glasses and threw them a few feet away. D.O flinched at the sound, but he didn’t dare look his former sidekick in the eye, staring at the floor instead.

Chanyeol smiled bitterly. “You know I can’t kill you,” he whispered. “I would never. Please take care of them.”

D.O raised his eyes in alarm, but it was too late.

 

 

 

Chanyeol engulfed himself in white flames.

 

_End of Part Two_


	3. Chapter Three

He woke up dizzy and disoriented. The sudden light made him cringe and squeeze his eyes shut, bringing his palms up to hide his face. He shifted gingerly, but found that his whole body was sore. He groaned with dismay.

The whisper that had originally woken him suddenly became distinct. Someone was shaking his upper arm, trying to rouse him.

“Are you alright?” the man asked. He tried to focus on the man’s young and very concerned face.

“Are you alright?” the stranger repeated and he whimpered, trying to sit up. He was suddenly very aware that he was naked and lying on dirt. There was some sort of a jacket covering his private parts and he grabbed it as if it were a life jacket. He looked around him.

“Hey, hey,” the other man caught his shoulders gently, making him focus. “It’s okay. How did you end up here? Do you want me to call the police?”

He gasped, realizing how sore his throat was. “I-” he rasped. He looked around him in alarm.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, and he tried his best to think of an answer. But he only drew a blank.

“I-” he tried to talk again, his voice only a whisper. “I don’t- know.”

The stranger furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you hurt?” he asked. “You probably have a concussion. Does your head hurt?”

“Everything hurts,” he replied. “Who are you?”

The man seemed startled for a moment but then smiled softly. “I’m Joonmyeon,” he said. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

The stranger--Joonmyeon--tried to help him stand up and he realized how small the man was, compared to him. Nevertheless, Joonmyeon managed to support him, wrapping his arm under his shoulders. He clutched the jacket close, feeling embarrassed. “Hospital?” he repeated.

Joonmyeon quickly led him to a small blue car. He clambered inside, ashamed to be out in public like that. Looking around him, he realized there was no one else on the streets. They were in some unfamiliar park at dawn, the chill of the morning air making him shudder.

Joonmyeon gave him a bottle of water and he drank all of it in one go. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was; his throat suddenly felt a lot better.

“Sorry for dirtying your car,” he apologized. “I don’t know what happened to me.”

“It’s okay, don’t mention it,” Joonmyeon replied and took out some wet wipes. “It’s all I have in my car,” he said and gave them to him. He took one out and tried to at least clean his hands from the dirt and… _soot?_

“Thank you,” he said and the other man hummed.

“Now then, hospital time,” he announced and opened the driver’s door.

“Um,” he said, feeling embarrassed, “Do you have any clothes? At least some pants?”

Joonmyeon turned his head and looked at him, surprised. “Oh,” he said, “right. Pants. But I think I should take you to the hospital as soon as possible.” He seemed to think of something. “Let me make a call.”

Joonmyeon started driving while calling someone with his hands-free device. “Hey, Yifan!” he said cheerfully. He waited for the other man to answer. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry to wake you up, I just got into a _situation_.” He paused. “I’m driving someone to the hospital. Yes. No. Yes, I’ll explain later! I wanted to ask… could you bring a pair of pants? And a shirt if you can. He’s about your size I think. Yeah, he doesn’t have any. Actually bring two of each and some underwear. No. It’s fine, I promise. Yes, can you meet us in the hospital parking lot? You’ll probably get there first. Okay. Thank you! Love you! Bye!” He closed the device.

“Everything’s solved!” he announced, trying to sound cheerful. “You’ll be alright. You still don’t remember your name?”

No,” he said and tried really hard, but nothing came up.

“Anything you can remember at all? Where you live? A telephone number? Family?”

He tried to think.

“A nickname? Anything?”

A bright red sign caught his eye and he stared at it, head swivelling to keep it in sight.

“Fire…” he whispered as it passed, “Mark?”

“Your name is Mark?” Joonmyeon asked. “You don’t seem like a foreigner,” he joked and turned his head to look at him as the car idled at a red light.

For some reason that sounded like his name, yet at the same time it did not. He gripped his head in his hands. “I think?” he said. “I think I was called ‘Mark.’”

Joonmyeon shrugged and continued driving. “It’s possible. Yifan has a foreign name too, maybe you grew up abroad like him,” he said. “You’ll meet him at the hospital. Try remembering anything you can, we should reach out to your family ASAP.”

Mark nodded.

When they arrived at the parking lot, Joonmyeon called his friend again. After he parked his car, a tall man approached with a paper bag in his hands. From the car window, Mark saw Joonmyeon exit the car and greet him with a peck. Joonmyeon pointed at him, but Mark avoided looking at the other man. Joonmyeon took the bag and handed it to him. The taller man, who must have been Yifan, stared unabashedly at him.

Inside there were two pairs of everything. He put on a pair of boxers as quickly as humanly possible. After hastily donning a red shirt, a pair of jeans, and some slippers, Mark cautiously got out of the car.

Yifan was as tall as him, maybe a tiny bit more, and had an extremely intimidating face. He felt very vulnerable, even when Yifan hesitantly reached out a hand, saying, “Nice to meet you…”

“Mark,” Joonmyeon interrupted. “He thinks his name is ‘Mark’.”

Mark tapped his feet. “Sorry,” he said, “And thank you so much for your help. I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

Joonmyeon smiled and Yifan seemed to let his guard down a bit. “It’s fine,” he replied. “Let’s get you a check-up.”

It was eerily silent for a hospital, the only sound the buzzing of a vending machine. The nurse on the desk scanned all three of them with her eyes, her gaze finally falling on him. He felt self-conscious about how dirty he was.

“Wait here,” Yifan said, and went to the desk. He began chatting with the nurse, who gave him a form to fill out. Joonmyeon led Mark to a row of chairs and made him sit down.

“It’s going to be alright,” he murmured, trying to comfort Mark.

Mark wasn’t so sure about that.

Yifan approached them after a while. “Let’s head to the emergency room,” he said. “A doctor is waiting for you.”

Dr. Bae was a kind-looking woman. She read the form Yifan and Joonmyeon had filled out earlier and tsked.

“Disorientation,” she read, “and memory loss. Probably temporary. Let’s see if you have a concussion. Your name is Mark?”

He nodded.

“Okay, Mark. Does your head hurt?”

“When I woke up it did,” he said. “Now it doesn’t.”

“Any nausea?”

“No. My body feels kinda numb though.”

“Look at my finger,” she instructed. “Follow it to the best of your ability.”

He did. She then gave him a card with some numbers.

“Look at it,” she said. “Try to focus. Now shake your head left and right, focusing at the same time. Try to read them out loud as you shake your head.”

He did as instructed for a few minutes.

“Do you feel dizzy? Any lack of focus?” she asked.

“No.”

She took the card and stowed it away in her pocket. “Tell me the first five numbers on the card.”

Mark looked at Joonmyeon who just nodded. “Six, Four, Eight, Two, One.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Can you continue?”

“Three, One, Nine, Eight, Four, Five, One, Five,” he said obediently, knowing that he got all of the numbers perfectly right.

Joonmyeon gaped.

She huffed. “Definitely no problem focusing, and no problem in short-term memory. There’s a new blood test for diagnosing concussions. I suggest we run it on him.”

Joonmyeon stepped closer. “Yes, let’s do it,” he said. “But what if it’s a metahuman department case?”

The doctor pondered it for a moment. “Why do you say so?”

“I found him naked in the park, with his memory gone. I don’t think that’s normal.”

“Maybe you should do it then,” she said. “Let me take a blood sample, just to be sure, and then I’ll send you all off.”

“Metahuman?” Mark asked after they were out of the ER. Yifan turned to look at Joonmyeon, surprised.

“What?” he said. “They sent you to Metahuman Department?”

“No,” Joonmyeon replied calmly. “She wasn’t convinced it was a concussion, so I proposed it as a possibility.” Yifan made a face.

“What is it?” Mark asked, a little bit of panic in his voice. “Where are we going?”

“Hey, Joonmyeon,” Yifan said, trying to stop Joonmyeon from walking. “Let’s wait for his blood test results and then we can take him to someone we trust. Like Yixing. Or Luhan.”

Joonmyeon stopped his steps, looking concerned.

“You know that they might get suspicious of him and get him into unnecessary trouble,” Yifan whispered. “Remember what happened to me?”

Joonmyeon instantly softened. “Yes,” he breathed. “I don’t think we can trust them either. But what if there is a missing persons report?”

“Missing persons reports are more common for non-metahumans. Metahumans, on the other hand... are usually spirited away somehow.”

“Can someone explain?” Mark asked with obvious annoyance. They both turned to look at him, folding their arms.

 

[...]

 

His blood tests showed no signs of concussion. After further debate, Mark followed Yifan and Joonmyeon to their home. It was a nice and cozy house, not too far away from the hospital, with a garden and even a small pool.

The first thing he did was take a long, hot shower. The water ran black for at least ten minutes. He wrapped a fluffy towel around his midsection and left the bathroom, heading to the room Joonmyeon said he could use.

Joonmyeon was already waiting inside - Mark could hear his voice coming out of the room. Mark stopped as he heard another man who was not Yifan talking to Joonmyeon.

“Yixing couldn’t come,” he heard. “He said to bring him over if I couldn’t figure it out. Oh, Mark’s here.”

Mark took a quick step back, but it was too late. The door opened to reveal a young, blond man with a pretty face. “Hi, I’m Luhan,” he greeted and made to come closer.

“Hi…” he murmured at the floor and clutched the towel tighter.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Luhan apologized as if he had read his mind. “I’m going to let you change first! Joonmyeon, come with me.”

Mark entered the empty room, closed the door, and slipped into the new clothes they had left for him on the bed. Feeling uneasy, he stared at the mirror for a while. He recognized himself, yet at the same time his reflection was alien to him. He combed his fingers through his black hair. _Black_. He blinked.

When he stepped into the living room, they were all talking like old friends, Luhan drinking tea while munching on biscuits, and Yifan making grand hand gestures while arguing. The moment they noticed him, all conversation ceased. Mark, feeling awkward, tried to wave and smile.

Luhan genuinely smiled back, and patted the space on the couch beside him. “Sit here!” Mark obeyed, trying to occupy as little space as possible. “Don’t feel nervous.” Luhan laughed. “He’s scared,” he explained to the others. Mark felt even more freaked out. “Sorry, Mark.”

“You can read minds?” he whimpered, trying to put some distance between him and Luhan, but failing. Joonmyeon laughed, a gentle sound.

Luhan smiled sheepishly.

“One of his many talents,” Yifan snickered.

“Mark, we’re sorry to subject you to this,” Joonmyeon said soothingly. “But Luhan might be able to help you with your memory loss.”

He reluctantly acknowledged that it made sense, and nodded. “You’re all metahumans? Superheroes?”

“We _are_ metahumans,” Yifan replied, “But we’re not active supers. We would also like to keep this between us. It’s a sign of trust that we gave you our identities.”

“I understand,” he whispered. “You think I’m one too?”

“We think so,” Joonmyeon replied.

“Why?”

“Call it an instinct. You usually just know who is and who isn’t a metahuman after a while.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “What do I do?”

“Nothing,” Luhan replied. “I’ll do the hard part. I’ll talk to you in your mind, don’t freak out. You don’t have to answer out loud either. Just think. You can also close your eyes, some people find it less weird that way.”

Mark nodded, and closed his eyes as Luhan had suggested.

“Here we go.” Suddenly he could feel him _inside_.

 _Sorry_ , Luhan said. _I’ll just… search. Stay calm._

It felt like someone was tickling his brain with a feather. He tried to refrain from laughing.

“That’s interesting,” Yifan said.

“Shut up,” Luhan said. “That’s weird. _Very weird_.”

 _Think of your name_ , he said, _Your family. Where did you grow up? Your best friend’s name? Your loved ones? What do you study? Hobbies? Your pets?_. Luhan must have asked a million different questions. Mark tried, but the blankness remained. Luhan continued, unfazed.

“Open your eyes,” Luhan said out loud, after what felt like hours.

Mark did. He checked the clock. Three hours had indeed passed. Yifan lounged on the couch, reading a book, while Joonmyeon cooked something that smelled delicious. They both turned their heads when they heard Luhan talking.

“How did it go?” Joonmyeon asked, not bothering to take off his apron. Mark thought it was cute and Luhan looked at him judgmentally.

“It’s definitely a metahuman case,” he replied and Mark shuddered. “I’ve never encountered something like this before. It’s impossible.”

They all widened their eyes. “Care to explain?” Yifan asked.

“It’s all…” Luhan seemed to try to find the right word. “ _New._ He’s like a baby. Everything--even to the cellular level--in his body is new.”

Joonmyeon looked very concerned. “How is that possible?”

“It’s not,” Yifan answered, and they all looked at him.

“Every cell is new,” Luhan repeated after a while, “but it seems like there remains some genetic memory. It’s a metahuman trait.”

“He has ancestral memory?” Yifan asked surprised.

“No. I think it’s from his ‘previous’ self. Some sort of stimulus might make it come to the surface. I’m also pretty positive that it’ll come back eventually. It's happened already.”

“With his name?” Joonmyeon asked.

“Yes. Mark, you saw the color red and thought of fire, right? That thought triggered the name. It happened very recently, so I think that you’ll have pieces of memory coming back to you from time to time. I tried to trigger you with colors and words, images of places, but there was no response. Maybe it’ll have to happen naturally.”

“Thank you, Luhan,” Yifan said. Joonmyeon hugged Luhan, and over Joonmyeon’s shoulder, Luhan winked at Mark.

“Should we inform the State?” Joonmyeon asked timidly after he let Luhan from his embrace. “Maybe there _will_ be a missing persons report.”

Yifan winced.

“Joonmyeon…” Luhan said.

“I’m just saying-” the smaller man whispered. “He might have a family waiting.”

Mark widened his eyes.

Luhan looked at him and instantly came closer.

“What is it?” Joonmyeon asked. “Did he remember anything?”

Luhan patted his back. “No,” he said. “Just a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?”

“I think that my family will be in danger if I appear,” Mark whispered. “Just a _very_ strong hunch.”

 

[...]

 

Mark learned that it was September of year 2018. A businessman, Joonmyeon owned hot springs and spas all over Seoul. Yifan was a chemist with his own high-quality facial care and makeup line.

It explained how rich they were.

He felt bad for being a burden, but both of them insisted on accommodating him, at least until he was able to support himself somehow.

It was weird that he didn’t remember anything… important. He remembered how to read, how to cook, how to clean, how to do math or play basketball. He knew authors of books and the first king of Joseon, but he couldn’t remember his mom’s name.

“I think I have a sister,” he said one day, while they were eating. He scrunched his nose. “For some reason, Luhan reminds me of her.”

Joonmyeon leaned forward. “Why? Do they look alike?”

He swallowed his bite of mashed potatoes. “I don’t think so. I think it’s more the invasion of privacy thing. Telepathy users are so difficult to be around.”

“True,” Yifan agreed, “and Luhan is no easy case. He’s not your average mind reader.” He shuddered.

Joonmyeon took his boyfriend’s hand into his and intertwined their fingers. “Did you remember anything new, Mark?”

Mark nodded. “I think I wore glasses,” he said. “I keep gesturing with my fingers like I need to fix them on my nose.”

“But you see fine?”

“Yes. My eyesight is perfect,” he replied. He took another bite. “I also think I liked to play the guitar. And piano. And drums?”

Yifan seemed impressed.

Joonmyeon’s eyes crinkled in the corners with mirth. “Really? How did you realize?”

Mark felt himself blushing. “I heard ‘River flows in you’,” he admitted. “My fingers just started moving on their own.”

“Muscle memory,” Yifan pointed out.

“Something like that. I was also thinking-.” He put his fork down as he paused, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted. “I want to try to get into a music university.”

Joonmyeon covered his mouth with his hand and then revealed a blinding smile. “Really? That’s wonderful!”

“I think it was my passion. And I don’t want to burden you guys any longer.”

“You know you don’t burden us,” Yifan said.

“Still, if feels wrong to just stay here without doing nothing. I want to become a musician. Also, Joonmyeon, could I work in one of your spas?”

“Mark, you really don’t have to-”

“I want to. I’m just so grateful. But I can’t expect you to pay for everything. I want to help. It’s been two months.”

Joonmyeon hummed noncommittally. “We’ll see. What university are you thinking of?”

“Dankook University. I found a few scholarships available online.”

“That’s a good university,” Yifan remarked. “We have a friend working there. Maybe you should take some classes with him before applying.”

“That would be great,” Joonmyeon followed up, excited. “He’s a very good teacher. I’m sure Kyungsoo will like you right away.”

 

[...]

 

Mark played with his fingers while waiting. Standing outside of Kyungsoo’s apartment building, he hesitated on whether he should ring the doorbell or not. Joonmyeon had mentioned that Mark should be precise about their meeting, not too late nor too early.

Kyungsoo sounded scary. Mark sighed.

Both of them would have accompanied him to introduce him to his teacher, but Yifan and Joonmyeon were both unexpectedly busy that day. Mark felt nervous, despite being assured that everything would be fine. As for his situation, they had told Kyungsoo that he was Joonmyeon’s distant cousin.

Mark couldn’t wait to spend time with someone normal again. No metahuman stuff whatsoever. He checked his clock again. 12:05 pm. _Shit, he was late_. He rang the door.

It opened immediately with a buzzing sound. He took the elevator and went to the fourth floor as instructed.

The door to the apartment was slightly open. Despite that, he first knocked lightly and then timidly fit his head between the door and the inside of the apartment.

“You’re five minutes late,” he heard a soft, lilting voice. “Come in.”

He entered a large, warm studio that included a living room area, a dining area, and a big kitchen on the side. A hallway near the kitchen probably led to the rest of the apartment. He could see the back of a small man stirring something--probably coffee or tea--inside the kitchen.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

The man- Kyungsoo- abruptly about-faced, like he had heard a ghost. _His eyes are huge_ , thought Mark. Kyungsoo stared intensely at him, gaping. Mark fiddled awkwardly with the bottom of his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” said Kyungsoo, clearing his voice, “I was surprised.” Still, he did not break his stare. “Coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Kyungsoo finally turned back to the kitchen counter. Mark noticed how tense his shoulders were and hesitantly walked into the kitchen area.

“Sit,” he suggested to Mark. “I’ll prepare it for you. Sugar?”

“Yes, at least three spoonfuls.” He clumsily settled himself on a chair.

“Sweet tooth, huh?” Kyungsoo asked nonchalantly, but still seemed shaken.

“Yes,” he tried to laugh, “I should watch it.”

“Probably.” Kyungsoo turned again with one cup of coffee in each hand. He placed them on the counter and sat across from him.

He seemed very soft. His host wore big round glasses that exaggerated the roundness of his face. Kyungsoo's lips were big and plush and his hair was styled back, revealing thickly defined eyebrows. _Cute._

“I’m Mark,” he introduced himself and lightly bowed his head. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Kyungsoo, you know that.”

He nodded.

“Sorry about before,” he said, averting his eyes. “Your voice reminded me of someone.”

“It’s okay.”

Kyungsoo looked at him again. His stare was intense, full of questions Mark didn’t know the answer to.

“Let me see your hands,” he said, after an awkward silence had passed.

Mark looked at him, surprised.

“Your dominant one.”

He let his right hand fall on the table. Kyungsoo furrowed his eyebrows. With very careful movements, he tentatively lifted the sleeve and stared. Mark heard him heave a loud sigh when he saw his skin. He self-consciously rubbed it.

“Sorry,” said Kyungsoo, shaking his head lightly. He then touched Mark’s fingers and palm and examined them carefully.

“You’re sure you play? You don’t have the expected calluses for a musician.”

“Oh. Uhm. I used to. I want to start over,” he explained.

“For a scholarship?” he insisted. “It’s going to be difficult if you’re that rusty.”

“I would like to try.”

Kyungsoo seemed doubtful. “But why? You can learn another trade or take the national exams. Music is a lot harder than most people think. Your fingers will bleed, your back will hurt, you’ll have no sleep.”

“It’s a dream of mine. I would like to try,” he repeated, this time with more determination.

His face became tense. “I’ve heard that before,” he mumbled and took a big sip of coffee. “Alright. But I have rules.”

“Yes.”

“Always be on time. Always practice,” he said, “And never, _ever_ , waste my time. If you decide you don’t want it, tell me immediately. I repeat. Don’t waste my time and Joonmyeon’s money.”

Mark nodded. “I understand! Thank you!” he said enthusiastically, smiling.

Kyungsoo seemed lost for a second. Without thinking, he raised his hand and brushed Mark’s lips, stroking over them lightly. Mark froze, his smile falling.

It was like a spell was lifted and Kyungsoo retreated immediately, blushing. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I- don’t feel very well. Why don't we call it a day?”

Mark blinked and touched his lips, confused. Kyungsoo wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Alright. Please rest.”

 

[...]

 

“Where will we practice?” It was his second day at Kyungsoo’s apartment and he already felt familiar with the place. Kyungsoo was preparing two cups of coffee, just as he had the day before.

“Still sweet?” he asked instead.

“Yes.”

“I’m going to make it semi-sweet. It’s bad for your health to take so much sugar.”

Mark pouted.

“I own the basement of this building, and I’ve refurbished it into a music room,” he replied after a while. “We’ll practice there. Joonmyeon convinced me that you’re responsible enough so I’ll give you my spare set of basement keys to practice when I’m not here.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he replied, but his voice was dead serious. “Only because Joonmyeon is a very good friend. If you mess up anything, I’ll murder you.”

Mark gulped. “Understood.”

“No visits in my apartment outside of our lessons. Don't bother me by coming upstairs when you’re practicing on your own.”

“Okay,” Mark replied. “What about using the bathroom? Or getting water?”

“It’s basically an apartment in the basement. It has everything you need. Also _no visitors_. If I catch anyone but you or Joonmyeon and Yifan, you’re out.” Kyungsoo gave him his coffee. “Let’s go.”

Stepping inside was _surreal_. The whole room, from top to bottom, was plastered in triangular pieces of white foam. Mark pushed one with his finger, examining how it slowly reformed itself. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes but didn’t comment.

“It’s soundproof,” Mark stated. “Whoa.”

There were countless instruments neatly placed around the room, and the centerpiece was a shiny black Bechstein grand piano.

“Whoaaa,” he repeated and took a step forward. Kyungsoo held him by the shoulder.

“Wash your hands first,” he gently admonished him.

Mark nodded eagerly and went to the small kitchen. He peeked behind his shoulder to take in everything else in the room while soaping up.

The room contained a keyboard, a couple of guitars, a violin, a viola, and a cello case, even a harp in the corner. Some drums as well. And recording equipment.

“Please close your mouth.”

“This is better than a music school!” he shouted excitedly and clapped his wet hands. Kyungsoo looked at him with that weird gleam in his eyes , fixated on his hands. He carefully separated them, thinking that maybe Kyungsoo didn’t like the sound. “This must have cost a ton of money, you’re so rich!”

Kyungsoo scoffed. “It does cost a lot. _So be careful._ ”

“And you play all of these?”

“I’m actually a violin soloist. I’m pretty acclaimed on the piano as well. I just like to learn new instruments, but I don’t try to reach a professional level in each. Stop it, your eyes are gleaming.”

“And you bought _all of them_?”

“I like to practice on my own,” he explained, touching the Bechstein with fondness. “With no time restrictions. Sometimes in the middle of the night, other times early in the morning. You have to wait in a music school, and my schedule doesn’t always allow for that.”

“Well, if you can afford it. You must be very successful to have all these.”

Kyungsoo didn’t answer. “What instrument do you want to start off with? Piano is a requirement to get into the University but you can pick whatever you want and I’ll try to help as much as I can.”

Mark thought about it.

“Maybe I’ll go with the classics. I like guitar a lot.”

“I can help you with that,” Kyungsoo said lightly. “And we can work on something else if you can. Something more unique maybe? Like the harp?”

“Yeah, why not. I’ll think about it,” he replied.

“Good. Now,” he said, pausing in his talk to open a drawer. He pulled out a thick pack of papers and a pencil. “Sit there,” he pointed to a small desk on the wall. “It’s time to see what you know. Musical theory, Harmony, and then Ear Training.” He smiled in an almost wicked way.

Mark did not know that someone that cute could smile so evilly, and shuddered.

 

[...]

 

“How was your first lesson?” Joonmyeon asked with a smile as he served the chicken to the table. Yifan tried to nab some with his fork, but the other man slapped his hand away.

Mark sighed and wiggled his fingers in front of his own face to show them off. “My fingers hurt,” he whined. “My brain hurts. He also hits me in the back of my neck when I’m making a mistake.”

Yifan chuckled and Joonmyeon shushed him. “It’s because it’s your the first day,” he said reassuringly, batting Yifan on the shoulder. “Kyungsoo is a hard teacher, but he is one of the best. In the end you’ll thank him.”

“He’s a brilliant teacher,” Mark agreed with a sigh. “But so demanding.”

“Maybe he demands because he can see you have something to give back. A teacher should take you out of your comfort zone, pressure you the right way,” Yifan said as he served salad onto his plate.

“Maybe,” Mark mumbled. “But I feel so anxious. He also looks at me weirdly.”

The two men looked at each other, having a discussion with their eyes that Mark could not interpret.

“Kyungsoo has been weird- I mean weirder than usual, this past year,” Yifan finally said.

“And it’s something we want to talk to you about,” Joonmyeon continued.

“Okay?” Mark responded, puzzled.

Joonmyeon took a long breath and sighed. “He lost someone about a year ago. A- student, you could say.”

Mark blinked. “Oh. _Oh_.”

“It was an accident where they were both involved. He injured his hands and wasn’t able to play for months. You’re actually his first student after that happened.”

Mark slowly chewed his food, thinking. “You’re sure he can do this? If he’s not up for it, he doesn’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” Joonmyeon interrupted. “It’s time to heal after all. It’s just that last night he called and demanded where I _found_ you.”

“What?” he put his fork down with a loud noise.

“We look nothing alike and I think he suspects that we’re not cousins, but he sounded very stressed,” Joonmyeon continued. “I think you reminded Soo of _him_.”

Yifan seemed to think deeply. “Kyungsoo doesn’t remind you of anyone, right?” he asked. Joonmyeon glared at him but Yifan shrugged. “What? He does have memory loss.”

“Yes, but you know that _he_ died,” Joonmyeon hissed. “It was all over the news. His poor family, there was nothing left of him but ash.”

Mark coughed, unsure of what to say.

“Anyways. I think he cried right before he hung up the phone,” whispered Joonmyeon.

“What?” Yifan exclaimed. “Kyungsoo _never_ cries.” His eyes widened almost unnaturally.

“I’m not talking about sobbing,” Joonmyeon explained, “I just... have never heard his voice cracking like that. He sounded like he was trying not to cry. And besides, everyone cries, Yifan. Just because Kyungsoo doesn’t show it doesn’t mean that he never cries.”

“I feel kinda bad though,” Mark chimed into their conversation. “It’s not good to make him feel paranoid when he’s grieving.”

No one spoke for a moment.

“It’s fine, I guess,” Yifan said after a while. “He does have to get over it. Besides, you can’t find a better teacher than him.”

Mark furrowed his eyebrows. “And how do you know Kyungsoo? How did you meet?”

Joonmyeon finally smiled. “He used to date my brother.”

“Really? And you’re on good terms?”

“Oh yes, they are good friends despite their former relationship. They worked together for some time, but I think that’s what made them realize they had to remain friends.”

“Your brother’s a musician too?” he asked.

“No, Jongin is a dancer. They just had a _project_ together. Their team didn’t last long, but we all remained good friends. Soo has helped us in all kinds of situations.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah,” Joonmyeon sighed. “I feel bad for telling you about his personal life, but be easy on him. He’s not as strong as he looks.”

 

[...]

 

Mark worked hard for the next three months. First Kyungsoo’s basement in the morning to practice, a lesson around midday, home to eat and rest, and then for the afternoon, part-time work in one of Joonmyeon’s spas. He mopped floors, folded towels, and checked the water temperature from time to time.

Sometimes Joonmyeon had him greet customers and book appointments on the phone when he was too tired. Mark was grateful. Kyungsoo’s apartment building was on his way back home, so sometimes he stopped by for a couple of hours to practice. Mark finally returned home very late at night. Sometimes he found himself falling asleep in the music room, and waking up to a blanket around him that was not there before.

He was tired, but happy in a strange way.

Kyungsoo gradually warmed up to him, sometimes even inviting him to have lunch at his studio. _God_ , what an amazing cook. He still seem to tiptoe around him, his eyes lingering longer than Mark felt comfortable, because… they looked sad.

It was not the kind of gaze that would let him feel affection, hope for something, or even allow him to dwell on how cute his teacher was. No, it was a dark and glassy glare. And even though Kyungsoo thought that he never saw it, one time he had caught him crying in the bathroom.

Well, not exactly _crying_. More like hiding his face with his palms as he rocked back and forth on the bathroom mat, breathing loudly. He stepped back and did not bother him. Kyungsoo was not as harsh with him that day.

Some days Kyungsoo would seem lost. Staring at one spot, not listening when Mark made a mistake. Sometimes he completely forgot what he was talking about, sometimes he even forgot _important things_ , like turning off the sink faucet, or that the stove was on.

Mark carefully took care of these things, without saying anything. Kyungsoo seemed so strong, but at the same time, brittle.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not inside your body?” Kyungsoo asked him one day.

He stopped playing the piano and looked at him.

He wondered if he should say anything about his memory loss and general disorientation, but decided against it. Joonmyeon and Yifan had trusted him and revealing something like that could raise suspicions.

“I feel confused sometimes,” he said, “from tiredness. But not out of my body.”

Kyungsoo didn’t answer, just pressed a key repeatedly. He then rubbed his hands like they were aching, a habit Mark has observed over time. He wondered what the accident Joonmyeon had mentioned was.

Kyungsoo closed his eyes. “When I hear you play, I feel like I’m not part of this word,” he confessed. “I must be _really_ tired.”

“You should rest,” Mark replied. “I’m not that great.”

Kyungsoo chuckled and opened his eyes. His smile was truly wonderful. Mark felt his heart beating faster and he smiled back. The other man reached out his hand to run his fingers through his hair. Mark closed his eyes and accepted the preening.

“You should cut your hair,” he said. “Soon, you won’t be able to see anything any more.”

He hummed. “Okay. Do you want to come to the spa to relax? I have a two person coupon.”

Kyungsoo laughed.

“Really.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Come relax! I won’t be giving you any massages, I swear. I only fold towels.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes were small, happy triangles. “I don’t have anyone to come with me.”

“Oh, come on. Find a friend,” he pressured.

“Okay, maybe,” Kyungsoo said, relenting.

“Great. I’ll be waiting for you and personally greet you!”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

“No! I would never!”

“Fine. Only if you play this part perfectly. Okay?”

“Yes, sir!”

 

[...]

 

As usual, Mark was folding towels while studying Harmony for his test. Kyungsoo insisted on testing him every week and it only got harder each time. Folding towels, on the other hand, was second nature to him right now, possibly even a career path given the way music wasn’t working out. He sighed.

“Mark?” Joonmyeon’s head appeared from the doorway. “Kyungsoo’s here. Want to say ‘hi’?”

“He came?” he asked and got up, stretching his muscles. “I didn’t think he would.”

“Yes. He brought a friend too, someone around your age.”

“Really?” Mark pondered. Kyungsoo had never mentioned anyone to him before. Actually he had never mentioned any friends besides Yifan, Joonmyeon and Joonmyeon’s brother. _That’s weird_ , he thought.

He walked through the dark hallway, to the reception desk. He could already hear people talking. A loud obnoxious laugh.

He stopped in his tracks.

Someone was talking very loudly, his voice cheerful and playful. Dreadfully familiar. He massaged his forehead, feeling cold sweat running down his body.

He hid behind a decorative counter.

And peeked in.

_Baekhyun?_

The name hit him like a ton of bricks. It echoed inside his mind. _Baekhyun_.

He hid again.

Baekhyun was there, with Kyungsoo. _Laughing._

Baekhyun, _his best friend._

_His partner in crime._

_His first crush._

_Playful, mischievous Baekhyun. Who was light, personified._

_Light._

_And he was fire._

_Chanyeol._

 

[...]

 

“Mark, why didn’t you come to the front?” Joonmyeon asked when he arrived home.

Chanyeol was sitting on the sofa, staring at the TV.

“Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?” he seemed concerned.

“I’m fine.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I didn’t feel very good.”

“You just said you’re fine.”

Chanyeol didn’t answer right away. He felt guilty for not telling Joonmyeon. Joonmyeon who had saved him, had given him a home, had supported him in everything.

His family crossed his mind. His mother and sister. _Oh god, they thought he was dead_. But he really had been dead. For a year.

He took a deep breath.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “I just remembered something and felt dizzy.”

Joonmyeon was surprised. “You did? Is it important?”

Chanyeol looked at him in the eyes.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. Joonmyeon patted his head.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he replied.

The walls felt like they were closing in on him. He had to get out. It was late at night, but he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t go practice at Kyungsoo’s. Where could he go?

Kyungsoo was D.O. That was certain.

Everything fit like a puzzle. The whole story about his lost student. Chanyeol felt like crying. Kyungsoo. _Kyungsoo_ , he pronounced the name like it was the first time, feeling out every syllable with the tip of his tongue.

Kyungsoo was so sad.

And D.O was a violin soloist. Who would have thought? He chuckled bitterly and got on a passing bus. He wanted to see his home, even from afar. Looking through the window, the roads were suddenly familiar in a homey way. This was his town, where he had grown up. The bus passed in front of a street restaurant that he and Baekhyun had hung out at all the time. The tree he used to climb when he was little and once broke his leg falling off of was covered in leaves now. Cats prowled around at night, as usual. _How could he have forgotten all of this?_

He walked the five minutes it usually took to get from the bus stop to his house, something he had always whined about. As he approached, his heart started beating faster, anxious to see _home_. It was dark, only the streets lights illuminating everything with an ugly yellow glow.

The house was dark inside too. He checked the time. His sister shouldn’t be asleep yet. Noticing more, he observed that the garden looked neglected. The house seemed... _abandoned_.

Making a quick decision and feeling irrational, he approached the door. Removing the brick only he and his family knew about, he retrieved the key from the hole. With shaky fingers, he quietly inserted the key into the lock and turned the handle.

The house was empty.

Chanyeol turned on his phone’s flashlight.

Only cardboard boxes were scattered on the floor. No furniture.

Chanyeol stared. After a while, he took a step into the living room. Looking around, the memory of his last night on the house came to mind. The thought that something bad happened at his family that night after all, passed his mind. He furiously opened his phone.

“Come on,” he whispered as he typed. “Faster!”

Hundreds of articles about the last year incident popped up in his browser.

 

_Sidekick self-combusts to save family!_

 

_New Super-Villain kills sidekick of D.O._

 

_D.O loses the battle. Sidekick dead._

 

He groaned. Not even one mentioned him by his sidekick name, but it didn’t matter. He scrolled down quickly.

Apparently only his ashes were left. They were scattered in the air, above the city. There was a picture of his mother and sister crying at the funeral.

He let out a big breath. Observing it more closely, Baekhyun was there too. In costume. With D.O.

_Baekhyun._

His alias was _Black Light_.

And he was D.O’s new sidekick.

Chanyeol froze and doubled-checked the article.

Then he checked the source.

There was no questioning it. Baekhyun _was_ D.O's _new_ sidekick.

Chanyeol didn’t realize at what point he began to feel angry.

He felt used.

Why did he feel angry?

Replacing him like this, with his best friend, was just-

No. Kyungsoo was sad. And Baekhyun being D.O’s sidekick only confirmed his theory about D.O’s true identity.

Kyungsoo was sad. But D.O chose Baekhyun, _his best friend_ to be his new sidekick. And D.O had _trusted_ Baekhyun with his identity. Baekhyun knew both D.O and Kyungsoo. Chanyeol felt the injustice suffocating him.

Wasn’t he trustworthy enough?

He aggressively shut off his phone and headed to the stairs that led to his room.

He just wanted to lie on _his_ bed and cry.

It was empty.

He whimpered at seeing the space where he had lived his entire childhood, empty. He felt numb. He could see Baekhyun’s bedroom window from his room. The light was on.

He was probably playing LOL like usual.

Chanyeol was so angry and _jealous_ , but missed him _so_ much.

Defeated, he left his old shell of a house, inserting the key back into the hidden spot. Walking away, he vowed to leave Baekhyun and his memories behind. Maybe it was for the best.

He decided to walk instead of taking the bus. He felt as if he were suffocating even more than before.

Of course Kyungsoo trusted Baekhyun. _Who wouldn’t like Baekhyun?_ He was funny and likeable and a really, _really_ good friend. Maybe D.O didn’t like Chanyeol after all. He did burn his gym down. Maybe he wasn’t sad, he was just… _traumatized._

Chanyeol felt tears running down his cheeks and loudly sniffled. He rummaged inside his pocket for a tissue.

“Hey, here you go,” someone said from behind.

He turned to accept the tissue offered. Lifting his eyes, he froze.

“Chanyeol?”

[...]

 

Lay was so shocked he needed about a minute to even produce a coherent sentence.

“You’re alive,” he spluttered.

Chanyeol tried to think of a way to explain.

“It’s complicated,” he said instead.

It didn’t work.

Lay made an obnoxious gesture and then cupped Chanyeol’s cheeks in his palms, as if he wanted to check if he _was_ indeed real.

“No one’s messing with my mind,” he mumbled, as he turned Chanyeol’s head this way and that. “You’re no illusion. Right?”

“Right.”

“Because if Luhan’s playing a trick on me, I swear-”

“You know Luhan?”

Lay eyed him warily. “You do?”

Chanyeol rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah,” he said, “he’s the one- Can we take this somewhere private?”

Lay half-closed his eyes, contemplating something. “How do I know you’re _you?_ ”

Chanyeol thought about it. “I can tell you something only I know.”

“Like?”

“Like the fact that one time Baekhyun’s ass got burned because I stared too much and then you gave us the sex ed talk, even though we weren’t dating, because you wouldn’t believe us.”

“You really weren’t a couple?”

“Nope, and it was awkward.”

Lay smiled sheepishly and avoided his eyes. “Well then. As you know, my office is that way. Let’s walk.”

It was the same office as the one where he and D.O went after botching their first mission, the one with that witch.

Even stepping inside made Chanyeol uncomfortable. Trying to keep his mind occupied he asked, “Are you Yixing?”

Lay looked at him surprised. “Yes I am,” he admitted. “How did you know?”

“Luhan examined me when I first woke up,” he explained. “He mentioned that if he couldn’t find out what’s wrong, he would call ‘Yixing.’ I just put two and two together.”

“Smart,” he pointed out. “Why did he examine you?”

“I had memory loss.” He sat on the examination bed and Yixing in the chair across from the bed.

“We all thought you had burnt to ashes,” Yixing said, his tone slightly accusing. “Why pretend to be dead-”

“I didn’t pretend. I think I was dead.”

Yixing gaped. “That’s impossible. You _can’t_ come back from the dead. That’s-”

“Impossible. I know.”

“A part of you must remain. You can’t be created all over again from nothing,” he insisted. “You’re missing something.”

Chanyeol thought about it. “My ashes remained,” he pointed out.

Yixing opened his mouth to talk, but then his eyes sharpened. He abruptly sat up and went to the medical library at the back of the room. Chanyeol followed him with his eyes, curious.

Lay flipped through pages like a maniac. “You’re a fire user right?” he said mostly to himself. Chanyeol didn’t even have the chance the answer. “And an evolutionary type. Extremely rare. Aha! Bingo!”

He presented the book. Chanyeol scanned the page.

“Phoenix?” he asked. “That’s… mythology.”

Yixing looked at him judgmentally. “You say that, while metahumans exist. Myths were created for a reason. The phoenix is an extremely rare evolution of fire types. Appears every thousand years or so. This is amazing.”

Chanyeol shook his head. “I don’t think-”

“Ignore what the creature symbolizes and focus on his abilities. A phoenix obtains new life by arising from the ashes of its predecessor. According to some sources, the phoenix dies in a spectacular show of flames… Do you see? _Do you?_ "

Chanyeol still looked perplexed.

“What did Luhan say?”

Chanyeol tried to find the exact words. “That it was impossible. My whole body was new, every cell new. That’s why I didn’t remember anything.”

Yixing’s eyes shone like stars.

“This is an amazing medical discovery,” he said, “and a historical moment! We-”

“Wait,” Chanyeol interrupted him. “I get that you’re excited but I don’t think I’m ready to… share this yet.”

Yixing deflated. “What? And why haven’t you told your mother anything yet? I saw her yesterday-”

“Is she okay?” Chanyeol asked nervously, heart suddenly beating a lot faster.

Lay raised an eyebrow. “As fine as she could be. She thinks she’s lost you.”

Chanyeol tilted his head down. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the floor, “I only remembered today.”

“Today?” Lay took a notepad and began scribbling. “When did you wake up?”

“A year after the incident.”

“A year! That long?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you feel anything in between?”

“No. I just woke up, I guess.”

He wrote that down.

“And you remembered today. That’s-”

“Five months.”

“Took a long time,” he murmured.

“It happens because of a stimulus. If I was with my family, I think I would have remembered right away.”

Lay seemed troubled. “What made you remember?”

“Baekhyun.”

Lay grinned wolfishly.

“We’re _not_ dating.”

“Alright,” he raised his hands to calm him. “I’m just saying. Where did you live if-” he made the connection. “Oh. Joonmyeon. He called me five months ago for a case.”

Chanyeol nodded. “They are good people. The best.”

Yixing smiled. “They are. And Joonmyeon has a soft spot for lost metahumans, how do you think he met Yifan?” he winked.

Chanyeol chuckled.

“I don’t know how they met.”

“Maybe one day, they’ll tell you how. Do you want to contact your family? D.O will be so happy to-”

“No-” he interrupted him sharply. “I can’t.”

“What are you talking about, you have to-”

“I can’t,” Chanyeol insisted. “It’s more complicated than-”

“Do you realize how much these people have missed you? For what reason-”

“For their own safety,” he cried out. “I can’t tell them I’m alive. Then _he_ will capture them again, and kill them.”

“He?”

“The Commander. It was all over the news. He made me do it.”

“Chanyeol, I don’t think you should hide this.”

“I have to,” he said briskly.

Yixing tried to calm himself even though it was obvious that he was upset. “You can’t keep living in hiding like that. If he threatened your family, then you should contact the State and D.O and then they-”

“No.”

“Chanyeol, don’t you think they deserve to know? Don’t you deserve to be with your family? And D.O, you can’t imagine-”

“I don’t care about D.O,” he said coldly. “He’s the last person I should tell. He won’t even care that-”

“D.O burned his hands trying to save you!” Yixing cried out and Chanyeol felt like he was slapped. “The kind of fire you used, _burned him_. He tried to pull you out of the flames and it took me four months, _four months_ to heal him completely. How dare you be so selfish? Letting him and your family be in pain, instead of-”

Chanyeol felt a familiar tightening in his chest. Yixing stopped talking and examined him with his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked and gently touched his shoulder. “Chanyeol?”

It was horrible. He wanted to puke and pass out at the same time, dark spots taking over his vision and when he tried to breathe he could not. He was suffocating.

“Chanyeol!” Yixing whispered urgently, helping him sit up straight on the bed. Chanyeol tried to breathe but failed again until Yixing placed his hand on his back. He instantly felt a soothing energy pass through him as Lay rubbed his back in circles, trying to comfort him. “Breathe as I tell you to, okay?”

Chanyeol nodded.

“Inhale through your nose deeply. Fill your lower lungs first and then the upper.

Hold it.

One.

Two.

Three.

Exhale from your lips. Slowly. Relax your face muscles. Good.

Again. Inhale.

One.

Two.

Three.

Exhale slowly. Inhale. Again.”

When Chanyeol stopped feeling like he was dying, Yixing still kept his hand on his back even though there was no healing energy running through it.

“How long have you been experiencing panic attacks?” Yixing asked calmly. “You should have told me.”

“I…” Chanyeol stuttered and cleared his voice. “I had them since my powers appeared,” he admitted. “I got over it when I was about sixteen. And then it reappeared when I was a senior.”

Yixing took a sharp breath. “Chanyeol, you should have said something. I could’ve helped.”

“I didn’t think it was that important,” he confessed. “I just thought it was stress. Everyone was stressed that year.”

“You didn’t know you had panic attacks?”

Chanyeol felt a bit ashamed, but tried to think of an explanation. “Yes and no? It really wasn’t that serious. The first time I actually had real trouble breathing was the first day D.O and I were on patrol. When we came to you, to heal him.”

Yixing widened his eyes. “You had a panic attack on my floor and I didn’t even realize-”

“It’s not your fault. I- didn’t realize too and- you were tired. It’s fine.”

“Chanyeol it’s not-”

“I’m a superhero,” he chuckled, “I can handle--”

“You’re human,” Yixing interrupted him. “Being a metahuman doesn’t make you less prone to illness, Chanyeol. It’s serious!”

Chanyeol ducked his head. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Yixing sighed and shook his head. “Supers are human. When you work in such a field, fighting crime, it’s no easy job. You experience horrible things. I keep trying to convince the city council to make it mandatory for active supers to see a psychologist. But nobody listens to me.”

Neither of them talked for a while, Yixing continuing to caress Chanyeol’s back. He had almost forgotten what he was yelling about before. Chanyeol felt guilty again.

“I’m sorry about D.O,” he whispered. “I didn’t know…”

Yixing stopped his movements and looked at him. “D.O cared--cares--about you more than you think. It’s just that he didn’t know how to show it. Don’t doubt him.”

Chanyeol laughed bitterly. “Everybody, from the moment I started working with D.O, including him, told me to never doubt him. That I should trust him and not question him. He knows best. D.O knows best and I am not to _ever_ doubt him. I don’t- I can’t- it makes me feel anxious.”

Yixing widened his eyes. “Chanyeol…”

“Why can’t I have questions? Why should I accept that someone likes me because everyone tells me so, but he doesn’t seem to? I want him to like me and I want him to show it. _To me_. How can I trust him if- he doesn’t deserve it… I don’t know, I don’t know him! He didn’t let me know _him_.”

Yixing’s eyes turned serious. “He cares about you.”

“I know. But it doesn’t matter.” Chanyeol paused, regretting what he just said. “I didn’t mean that,” he admitted. “But it bothers me how everyone from the moment I graduated, treated me like a kid, like a bomb ready to explode. I’m not a kid.”

Yixing nodded and smiled bitterly. “We know, Chanyeol. We know.”

Chanyeol felt tears running down his cheeks. “I just want all of you to talk to me straight. No enigmas, no prophecies, no vague things, no _you’ll understand one day._ I understand _now_. You can trust me.”

 

[...]

 

Chanyeol flipped the light on and jumped with surprise. Kyungsoo was basically sleeping _on_ the piano’s keys.

He quickly shut off the main lights and fumbled around. His hands finally found a nearby lamp, and Chanyeol turned it on to its low brightness setting.

Kyungsoo stirred a little. With his glasses off and hair falling down his forehead, he could clearly see the line between Kyungsoo and D.O. He came closer to take a better look. Kyungsoo, even in his sleep, seemed uneasy and tense.

Chanyeol wondered about the prophecy and the source of Kyungsoo’s power. Carefully, he grabbed under his knees with one hand and with the other he brought him to his chest. Kyungsoo seemed to wake up a little, his eyes opening slightly.

“What?” he rasped, his face so close.

Chanyeol swallowed.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course, Chanyeol-” he replied, and his eyes closed again with a flutter. Chanyeol widened his eyes, but he realized that the other man was asleep. He held him tighter to his chest and carried him to the bedroom at the other end of the basement. Kyungsoo didn’t usually use it, but the sheets were clean with a neatly folded blanket on top. Chanyeol carefully placed him on the bed and Kyungsoo rolled his body into a ball.

“Tiny, strong man,” Chanyeol whispered and covered him with the blanket. “Sweet dreams.” Kyungsoo didn’t move. Chanyeol leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his cheek and then on his right hand. “I’m sorry.”

 

[...]

 

The next morning, when he arrived, Kyungsoo was not in the basement. He had just started practicing the guitar when his teacher appeared. He seemed… suspicious. And brooding.

“Good morning,” Chanyeol chirped to his teacher.

Kyungsoo mumbled something back. He went to the counter and got the coffee out.

“Did you just wake up?”

“No.”

“You seem sleepy.”

Kyungsoo turned to face him instead.

“Were you here last night?” he questioned.

“No.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes were now two slits.

“Why?” Chanyeol asked innocently.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Why weren’t you in the spa yesterday?” Casual.

“I didn’t feel very good so I left early.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Trying to learn… the 11th Etude by Villa-Lobos. I’m currently crying and my left hand is hurting like hell.”

Kyungsoo smiled lightly. “It’s certain that they’ll accept you if you play this well at the audition. Try to perfect it.”

Chanyeol nodded and Kyungsoo came closer.

“Take a break,” he told him. “Give me your hand.”

Chanyeol left the guitar leaning on the wall. Kyungsoo waited expectantly. He gave him his left hand, feeling awkward. Kyungsoo examined his fingers and palm. “Now we’re talking. The hand of a musician.” He massaged it lightly.

When he looked up into Chanyeol’s eyes, Chanyeol stared right back at him. For the first time, he felt like he could really see Kyungsoo, no veil of uncertainty, awkwardness, and mystery between them.

Maybe Kyungsoo could see it in his eyes because he abruptly let Chanyeol hand fall, his expression turning… suspicious.

“You seem different,” he accused.

“Me?”

“Yes, _you_. Who else could I be talking about?”

Chanyeol laughed. “How can I seem different? You saw me yesterday. I didn’t do anything.”

Kyungsoo glared.

“You seem really tired,” Chanyeol observed, trying to change the topic. “That’s not what a spa is supposed to do.”

Kyungsoo sighed. “I got a call from the job,” he said despondently.

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yes, in the middle of the night.”

“Weird. Did you have an _emergency_ concert?”

Kyungsoo scowled. “You could say that,” he replied coldly.

“Well, you can’t help it,” Chanyeol continued. “When they call you on the field, _you have to answer_.”

He swore that Kyungsoo choked a little. “Mark?” he questioned. “Do you know something?”

Chanyeol fluttered his eyelashes innocently. “Me? Like what?”

“Nothing…” replied Kyungsoo, sour.

Chanyeol gave a fiendish smile behind his teacher’s back. Maybe he should enjoy it, as long as it lasted.

 

[...]

 

It progressively got worse. Over the next two weeks, Chanyeol shamelessly made Kyungsoo’s life hard and felt no guilt about it. Insinuations became his second nature and after each and every one of them, Kyungsoo simply glared but said nothing.

It got to the point that Joonmyeon came to his room to ask him why Kyungsoo questioned him about how much “Mark” knew about metahumans. Chanyeol shrugged.

“Why? What does Kyungsoo know about metahumans?” he asked instead.

Joonmyeon stuttered and refused to say anything. Yifan gave him a suspicious look. Chanyeol felt a little bad about lying, but decided to act only after he got accepted into the University.

He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to return to his life as a superhero, and endangering his family was a big no-no. He missed his mother and sister, as well as Baekhyun, but he needed time. They all told him to take his time anyways. And anyway, he needed to secure their safety. He would pay Joonmyeon and Yifan for all his expenses afterwards.

As for D.O, he wasn’t making any progress with the Commander, from what he could see from the news. Baekhyun helped, but the two only managed to prevent destruction, not eliminate the threat itself. Chanyeol briefly considered revealing the truth to D.O. Kyungsoo was strong, maybe they would make it work together somehow.

Still, something gave him pause. Was it that he enjoyed the current nature of their relationship, or that he would be powerless even if he did tell the truth, he didn’t know. Explaining it to Kyungsoo would be… too much. It would add strain to their relationship. And every day that passed of being self-aware added even more feeling of betrayal to it. What was he supposed to say? That he had known for _two weeks?_

It didn’t help that he flirted shamelessly with him. Kyungsoo usually raised his eyebrows and shook it off. He was so dense that Chanyeol only did it even more obnoxiously.

He didn’t dare touch him sexually, but he did lean closer than before when Kyungsoo showed him how to play a chord or a melody. He lingered his fingers on Kyungsoo’s whenever Kyungsoo gave him a cup of coffee, and would hold eye contact much longer than necessary.

It was fun seeing the almighty D.O give in to his pouting and puppy eyes. He even let him sleep in the basement bedroom one night, but he _did_ have to change the sheets the next day. Puppy eyes didn’t work on that.

It was the day of the audition when everything took a turn.

Kyungsoo waited for him outside. It was obvious he was nervous about it as he fidgeted. Chanyeol finally left the examination room with a gloomy face. Kyungsoo carefully came closer.

“How did it go?” he asked softly.

Chanyeol took two seconds, before beaming brightly. “I passed!” he yelled and then hugged him. After a few seconds, Kyungsoo tightly hugged him back. Chanyeol breathed in his scent, his hair tickling his nose lightly. His shampoo smelled like sandalwood, pungent but also with a vanilla-like sweetness.

Maybe that’s what made him dizzy.

When they parted, just a few inches, Chanyeol looked right into Kyungsoo’s eyes. They seemed so happy, so full, hopeful- He couldn’t resist it. He leaned and-

He kissed him.

Kyungsoo didn’t react. It was just a simple press of lips, but he kept still. Chanyeol moved away a few centimeters, flushed with embarrassment. He didn’t dare look at him. But Kyungsoo raised his hand and held his chin between his fingers, forcing him to meet his eyes.

Chanyeol did. Kyungsoo blinked. And then this time it was his teacher who kissed him, cupping the back of Chanyeol’s neck and yanking him down.

This was more than a mere press of lips. Chanyeol let a small moan escape as Kyungsoo sucked on his lower lip, biting gently and tugging. Kyungsoo’s hands held him firmly by the base of his neck, his fingers intertwining with his hair.

He opened his eyes just a tiny bit, to steal a peek. And pulled back.

Right across them were Joonmyeon and Yifan, holding flowers and gaping like fools.

“Uhm,” he tried to say.

Kyungsoo turned his head and looked. He released him from his grip, patting his back in secret.

Joonmyeon was still in a state of shock while Yifan now looked like he was amused.

“Did this-” he stuttered, “When did- How-?”

“He means, has this been happening for a while?” interpreted Yifan.

“No,” said Kyungsoo. “Joonmyeon, we’re both adults, stop hanging your mouth open.”

Joonmyeon snapped his jaw shut.

“But he’s just a kid,” he hissed. “You’re his _teacher!_ Oh my God, is that why he’s been sleeping over?”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and caught Chanyeol by the waist, bringing him close. Chanyeol left out a soft yelp. “No. That’s the first time we kissed, and I wish you two wouldn’t be so nosy. Plus, I’m not his teacher anymore,” he said proudly.

“I passed!” Chanyeol exclaimed. Joonmyeon immediately smiled, forgiving everything.

“Oh, congratulations!” he cried out and gave him the flowers. He pinched his cheeks. “I knew you would make it!”

“Congrats,” Yifan echoed, giving him a handshake that kinda hurt.

Chanyeol smiled at the three men in front of him. In a weird way, they felt like family too.

 

Yifan managed to persuade Joonmyeon to give them some alone time. After they all went for a coffee together, Chanyeol treating everyone, the couple said goodbye, with a very stubborn-looking Joonmyeon warning that ‘they’ll wait for him to return at night’. Chanyeol blushed while Yifan took his very indignant boyfriend by the shoulders and led him to their car.

He and Kyungsoo sat side by side, their hands intertwined under the table. Chanyeol tightened his grip.

“Should we go home?” Kyungsoo asked and he nodded eagerly. “No funny business.”

‘No funny business’ was hard to maintain. While the elevator ascended, Chanyeol stole a peck. That turned into something more, leaving him panting on Kyungsoo’s lips. He bit his own, scanning Kyungsoo’s sturdy body.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo mumbled and he fumbled with his keys. He opened his apartment door, and suddenly Chanyeol was all over him.

“Mark,” he said, making Chanyeol confused for a moment. “Wash your hands.”

“We’re making out and you’re seriously telling me that we should wash our hands?”

Kyungsoo shrugged. “Hygiene is important. Especially if we keep _making out._ ”

Deep inside, Chanyeol agreed. “Fine,” he replied. “Carry me?”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “Seriously?”

“You can’t?” pouted Chanyeol.

At this, Kyungsoo laughed. “I’m super strong,” he said and lifted him off his feet. “Let’s go, princess.”

 

Maybe washing their hands was indeed important. He didn’t even know how it ended up this way, he was just kissing Kyungsoo all over, his face, his neck, his hands. He gently sucked on his right ring finger and that was the first time he actually heard Kyungsoo moan so freely. Chanyeol was definitely addicted to his voice. He sucked harder, playing with his tongue a little bit, circling the finger and blowing some air right after. _Musicians and their hands_.

Kyungsoo brought his finger back and moved his face close for a kiss. Chanyeol opened his mouth pliantly, letting Kyungsoo set the rhythm. The kiss was both demanding and elegant, just like Kyungsoo’s violin performances. Powerful and graceful. You couldn’t miss how wonderful it was even if you tried. Chanyeol shuddered and arched, bringing him closer, closing his legs around his waist.

They were only shirtless and he whined. Kyungsoo chuckled. “Don’t get impatient,” he teased and pecked him. “You’re sure about this?” he asked after some more kissing.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol gasped as Kyungsoo angled a particularly powerful hip thrust.

“You’ve wanted this?” Kyungsoo asked, doing it again.

“Yes,” Chanyeol moaned and ran his fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair, tugging a little bit.

“For how long?” Kyungsoo asked between kisses.

“Longer than you think,” Chanyeol confessed. Kyungsoo really didn’t know.

“Yeah? Do you know when I realized?”

“When?” he breathed and closed his eyes as Kyungsoo sucked on his nipple. “Kyungsoo-” he let out.

Kyungsoo continued. “When,” he sucked the skin right below his nipple, “I showed you how to sit properly on the harp,” he said and pecked the fresh hickey. “And you grinded your ass straight onto my cock.”

Chanyeol laughed. “ _That_ , was _not_ intentional.”

“Really?” Kyungsoo rubbed their crotches softly.

“Really,” Chanyeol breathed. “You’re so dense. I’ve been giving you signs for the past two weeks, yet, you understood nothing.”

“Didn’t I?” he teased. Chanyeol heard the sound of a zipper and shuddered, the reality catching up to him.

“So you just waited and tortured me?”

“I wanted you to focus on your exams.”

“Sexually frustrated is _not_ focused.”

Kyungsoo laughed. “What would you prefer?” he pulled down Chanyeol’s pants with a quick move. “Bending you over the piano and fucking you? Sucking you while you play?” he whispered while his lips grazed his neck, right below his ear. Chanyeol arched again and held him by the shoulders.

“Maybe-” he panted.

“Still, it worked. You passed,” Kyungsoo purred and this right hand tentatively rubbed over his underwear. Chanyeol trembled and rocked his hips, asking for more. “I’m so proud of you, Mark.”

He froze.

Kyungsoo probably felt him tense. He stopped his movements and slightly hovered over his body, so that they were not touching any more. Chanyeol felt the chill in the air and shuddered.

“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asked worried. “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have gone so far-”

Chanyeol looked at him, Kyungsoo’s eyes huge and shiny, his pupils dilated. When he tried to get off him, Chanyeol stopped him, wrapping his legs around his waist again. Kyungsoo fell on his palms and looked at him, concerned. Chanyeol felt tears flowing and, embarrassed, wiped them away with the back of his hand. Kyungsoo remained silent, waiting.

“I-” he rasped.

“What?” Kyungsoo whispered softly. “What’s going on?”

He sucked in an uneven breath.

“You can tell me,” Kyungsoo soothed. “It’s okay if you don’t want this-”

Chanyeol chuckled. “Oh, I want this,” he said. “I just feel like a fraud.”

Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows. He tried to move but Chanyeol prevented him. He did it again, this time using his strength, subtle enough to seem normal, but Chanyeol knew. Kyungsoo sat on the bed, not leaving his side, but not touching him either.

Chanyeol was still lying down. Kyungsoo’s sculpted body was illuminated by the midday sun and his hair looked more brown than black. He had a nice tan, something he had never noticed when Chanyeol knew him as D.O. Chanyeol bit his lip. It was a nice image to have.

“What’s going on?” Kyungsoo demanded.

Chanyeol took a deep breath and slowly sat up, leaning on the headboard of the bed. He covered his underwear with the sheet.

“You’re not… crazy,” he said. “To my defense, you have to believe me, I didn’t know. I swear.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I remembered two weeks ago,” Chanyeol said and his voice broke. “You have to believe me about that. Promise me.”

“Mark, what-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Kyungsoo gaped.

“Why?” he breathed.

Chanyeol placed his hand on top of his own stomach, his palm facing up. Sniffling, he closed his eyes and heard Kyungsoo gasp.

He opened his eyes and blew out the small flame that danced on his palm. Looking at the bed, Chanyeol realized Kyungsoo was no longer next to him. He stood on the floor, posture braced like he was ready to fight. His face, pale.

“Kyungsoo,” he begged. “It’s _me._ ”

Kyungsoo’s jaw tightened and Chanyeol sat up on his knees.

“It’s me,” he insisted.

“Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol was startled.

“You’re playing with my feelings.”

“No, I-”

“This can’t be. I’m hallucinating.”

“You’re not-”

“Who are you?” Kyungsoo yelled and--attacked him. Chanyeol was suddenly lying back on the bed, Kyungsoo on top of him, but there was nothing sexual about it. Kyungsoo easily restrained him, immobilizing his hands and legs. He tried to break free, wriggling, but it was futile.

“Kyungsoo, please,” he begged. “It’s really me. I didn’t mean- I don’t mean any harm.”

“I saw Chanyeol dying,” spat Kyungsoo. “ _Burning_. He burned right in my arms. Who _are you_? Shapeshifter? Illusionist?”

“It’s really me,” said Chanyeol weakly. “Really.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Chanyeol carefully engulfed his palms in flames, minding the sheets and the bed. “Can I do this?” he asked, “If I’m not him?”

Kyungsoo’s expression didn’t change. “Illusions,” he grunted.

Chanyeol sighed. “How can I prove it to you?” he asked. “I know it sounds impossible, I can’t even believe it myself, but I--I resurrected.”

Kyungsoo sneered.

“I’m telling the truth.”

_“Right.”_

“You’re inflammable because your mother is pyrokinetic,” said Chanyeol. “Typical embryo adaption to survive. You learn it at Biology, but _I_ was not a top student.”

Kyungsoo’s grip loosened a bit. And then got tight again. “You’re messing with my mind,” he accused.

“Kyungsoo, I- Please let me go! You’re hurting me!” he cried and tried to move his body.

Something seemed to change inside Kyungsoo. Doubt.

“I would have hurt you long ago if that was my purpose,” Chanyeol tried to reason.

“You could be a spy.”

“Then why reveal it now?” he cried out. “Please let go of my hands, you’re _hurting_ me.”

Kyungsoo let go of his hands in a flash, as if he had been burned. Ironic. Chanyeol whimpered and looked at his bright red wrists. They stung when he touched them and his eyes welled up with tears. Kyungsoo observed him like a wounded animal, posture still hostile.

Chanyeol swallowed a sob, which messed with his breathing. Kyungsoo was still sitting on top of him, restraining him from moving.

“Get off of me,” he whispered. Even though he was no longer pressed so tightly to the bed, he felt suffocated. “Get off of me!” he repeated and gasped. His exhale was shallow and short, cut into pieces. He tried to take a deep breath, but no air ran through his lungs. He started seeing black on the edge of his vision. There was a rattling in his throat and he choked. Sobbing, he placed his hands over his chest, hitting it lightly. Kyungsoo immediately sat up, releasing the pressure and hovering on top of him.

“Hey, are you-” he heard but it was distant, like someone was yelling at him through a storm.

“C- can’t- breathe…” he managed to stutter before everything went black.

 

[...]

 

He woke up in Kyungsoo’s bed. He blinked. It was nighttime, the only light a small lamp on the nightstand. Trying to get up, his whole chest burned and ached. He gasped and fell back into the sheets.

A form moved in the corner of the bed. Someone was there, waiting. Chanyeol turned his head to look, and saw Kyungsoo sitting on the edge. He stretched his hand towards him.

“Kyungsoo,” he whispered.

Kyungsoo came closer. His eyes were red and his hair disheveled. He kneeled beside him and took his hand.

“Chanyeol,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeated with little hiccups between. Chanyeol saw tears running through his cheeks and tried to wipe them away. Kyungsoo looked at him.

“You never cry,” Chanyeol said.

Kyungsoo didn’t smile. Instead he took his palm into his and kissed it. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Chanyeol closed his eyes.

“Do you want anything?” Kyungsoo asked. “Food? Water? Do you want to go to the bathroom?”

He opened his eyes slightly. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’m cold.”

“I’ll bring a blanket-”

“No- Get in here.”

Kyungsoo hesitated, reluctant.

“Please,” he begged.

Kyungsoo sat up. Without removing his clothes, he got under the blanket and spooned him from behind. Chanyeol sighed and welcomed the warmth and comfort of the other body.

“You shouldn’t forgive so easily,” Kyungsoo whispered, hugging him, but Chanyeol was already asleep.

 

[...]

 

When he woke up in the morning, he was alone. If it weren’t for the burn on his chest he would have thought that he had imagined everything. Kyungsoo was not lying beside him. Chanyeol rested his palm over his heart, feeling it beat. His breathing was still labored and he coughed.

The door suddenly opened and Yixing appeared. Chanyeol tried not to wince at the pain that shot up when he tried to sit up, but the doctor made a gesture to keep still. He sank back onto the bed again.

The silence stretched between them as Yixing sat on a chair beside the bed, examining him with his eyes. His expression did not reveal anything good.

“Your heart stopped beating,” he said after a few minutes. Chanyeol widened his eyes. “Kyungsoo had to perform CPR but he broke three ribs. Your heart started again, but you still couldn’t breathe right.” Yixing touched the inside of his wrist, measuring his heartbeat. “Ha called Jongin right away, who teleported me here. Two minutes more and you would’ve been dead. _Again_. And I don’t think that this time you would be back.”

Chanyeol didn’t speak.

“Chanyeol, this is serious.”

“I don’t- Is Kyungsoo alright?”

Yixing’s face fell. “Kyungsoo shouldn’t be your priority right now,” he said sharply. “He should know better than _that_. He _choked_ you.”

“We’ve done this exercise a thousand times,” Chanyeol defended him with a whisper. “I got a panic attack, he didn’t know-”

“He wasn’t emotionally stable,” Yixing retorted. “And you weren’t either. He pushed too hard, or you lost control and had a panic attack, or both, I don’t know. And I don’t care. You almost died, and _that_ is unacceptable. He should have known better.”

Chanyeol turned his head the other direction, looking though the balcony door.

Yixing’s tone was softer when he spoke again. “I explained everything to him when I arrived, at least what I knew. He deserved it, after the scare you gave us. I contemplated calling your mother but I decided that should be on you to do that. Joonmyeon and Yifan are also _very_ sad and are currently waiting in the living room with Jongin. You owe them an apology.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “Can I talk with Kyungsoo first?”

Yixing snorted. “You two are messed up and you better talk about it,” he warned. “I’ll keep an eye on you.” He sat up. “Kyungsoo!” he yelled. “Come here!”

Chanyeol twitched from surprise. He heard quick steps from the hallway and after a few seconds, Kyungsoo hesitantly entered the room. Yixing looked at him judgmentally. “Like I said before,” he repeated, “You two better talk about what _you have_ and what you are, or whatever. If you end up hurting each other again, I swear to God, I’ll kick both your asses.” Chanyeol nodded eagerly. “Don’t underestimate me,” he threatened, waving a fist.

“Thank you, Yixing,” Kyungsoo said, defeated and glanced at Chanyeol, who smiled encouragingly. Yixing left the room.

Kyungsoo was about to sit on the chair, but at the last second decided otherwise and sat on the bed, next to Chanyeol’s chest. He gently touched his cheek, and then his fingers roamed up to stroke the strands of his hair, removing them from his forehead. Chanyeol relaxed a little.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes weren’t as red anymore, but looked tired. He had probably taken a bath too because he smelled like fresh shampoo and his hair was not styled. Chanyeol tried to smile.

“It’s okay. I should be the one apologizing. I should have told you the moment I learned-”

Kyungsoo shook his head in denial. “No, don’t apologize. I almost killed you, Chanyeol,” he sighed. “You would have died again- and I-” He turned his head in embarrassment, sniffling loudly. “I’m so sorry.”

Chanyeol chuckled and forced Kyungsoo to face him with his hands. “I feel weird that you’re apologizing to me,” he confessed. “Because I feel so guilty. I should have told you, as Yixing advised, but-” He paused, before continuing, “I liked what we had. That you were teaching me and I would audition for Dankook University, and I felt normal and happy. I was a coward. Also telling you that while we made out wasn’t the smartest idea ever.”

Kyungsoo smiled slightly. “It wasn’t,” he rasped. “I’m so sorry.”

Chanyeol pouted. “Hey, don’t be so sad.” He sat up with a groan and Kyungsoo helped, adding a pillow behind his back. “At least agree with me that we’re both at fault. I feel bad if you only blame yourself for this.”

“You know I can’t blame you.”

“Then accept that I don’t blame you either,” he said stubbornly. “Please don’t be sad. Whatever happened, happened.”

“Okay,” he said. “I have a surprise for you.”

Chanyeol’s eyes shone. “I love surprises! What is it? Is it a puppy?” he teased.

Kyungsoo laughed. “Close,” he said, “Wait a minute.” He walked away and opened the door. “Come in,” he said to someone outside. Chanyeol tried to crane his neck to see.

“Baekhyun!” he cried out, confused and happy all at once.

“Chanyeol,” weeped Baekhyun before flinging himself on top of him, crushing Chanyeol. But this time it was the good kind of crush. He hugged him tightly and breathed him in, savoring the familiar smell. Baekhyun sobbed on top of him, rubbing his tears all over his neck. Chanyeol laughed.

Finally, Baekhyun raised his head a little and looked him in the eye. His eyes were red, but he looked so happy that Chanyeol felt a dash of guilt in his heart.

“You’re here,” Baekhyun repeated over and over. “I could kiss you right now!” he yelled and then laughed, obnoxiously loud as usual.

“I knew it,” he heard Yixing saying from somewhere in the room, but ignored it.

Chanyeol realized that he too was crying. “I’m sorry. I didn’t remember. I’m so sorry.”

Baekhyun hit him lightly on his upper arm. “Idiot,” he accused. “Engulfing yourself on fire, what were you thinking?”

Chanyeol swallowed awkwardly and avoided his stare. “It’s complicated,” he whispered.

Baekhyun’s expression turned serious in a moment. “We’ll talk about it,” he whispered so no one but Chanyeol could hear. “We’ll deal with it, I promise. Me and Kyungsoo have been working on it for so long,” he sniffed. “Today we relocated your mom and your sister. They’re are safe, no one besides us knows where they are.”

“Okay. Baekhyun, thank you so much.”

Baekhyun smiled and Chanyeol realized how much he had missed it.

“Okay, Baekhyun,” Yixing suddenly said. “Get off of him now, he needs his rest.” Baekhyun did get off of him, but opted to lay on the bed beside him, hugging him.

“Let us have our moment,” he whined. “I’m so happy.”

Chanyeol glimpsed Kyungsoo, who looked amused at Baekhyun’s antics. He felt relieved.

Smiling at him, he was happy to see Kyungsoo returned it with his trademark heart-shaped one. Lay left the room, giving them their privacy.

“I feel so betrayed,” he suddenly said and lightly punched Baekhyun’s arm. “You two are a team. How dare you,” he whined.

“I’m a hero now!” Baekhyun said proudly. “But I’m working with Kyungsoo to deal with my- the Commander.”

“Still-” he looked at D.O. “How could you. _My_ best friend?”

Kyungsoo laughed. “I didn’t cheat on you,” he said. “Are you jealous?”

Baekhyun giggled.

“No!” Chanyeol said, denying it a bit too vehemently.

“We just coped together when we lost you,” Baekhyun murmured and Chanyeol turned his head to look at him, worried. “It was easier to have someone to talk to about it. No offense, but your sister is not that great at comforting people when she knows what you’re thinking all the time.”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I really didn’t know.”

“I believe you,” Baekhyun replied. “I just wish we didn't have to go through this. Your mom Chanyeol- She’s not the same. And your sister, she doesn’t show it but she’s so sad.”

Chanyeol felt guilty all over again for not telling them right away. Maybe Kyungsoo sensed that.

“It’s fine,” he said, “We’ll contact them when the time is right, Chanyeol’s right on that. It’s too dangerous. The Commander has more sources than we know. If Chanyeol revealed himself, then he might know.”

Chanyeol widened his eyes. “How much progress have you made?” he asked. “How will we fight this?”

“We don’t think we can fight this on our own,” Baekhyun said. “Yifan and Joonmyeon are gathering the team at their house to discuss and strategize. With you here, we might have to act more quickly than we originally thought.”

“Yifan and Joonmyeon are in?” he asked surprised.

“They weren’t,” said Kyungsoo. “But the moment they learned who you were, they offered to help. They won’t participate physically because they’re not active supers and they might be legally liable if something goes wrong. But their contribution to the plan and their connections will be valuable.”

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “When do we start?”

 

[...]

 

Joonmyeon’s reaction watching him out of bed was too much. He made an ugly crying face and hugged him tightly. Yifan widened his eyes and soothingly patted his boyfriend on the back. Joonmyeon, in return, gave him the stink eye.

“I was so worried,” he said between sobs. “Yixing said you almost died.” Then he pointed his finger at Kyungsoo, eyes so hostile Chanyeol instinctively stepped back. “ _You,_ ” he hissed. “How dare you-”

Chanyeol swore that he felt the walls screech in protest. He looked around him in awe.

“What was that?” he asked.

Yifan stepped between Joonmyeon and Kyungsoo. The latter seemed more annoyed about the noise than guilty.

“Babe,” Yifan tried to calm Joonmyeon. “Loosen up. You’re gonna ruin his place.”

“He almost ruined our kid!”

Chanyeol choked.

Yifan stared, slack-jawed.

Joonmyeon blushed and crossed his arms. “Okay, I overreacted a little,” he admitted. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten this,” he pointed at Kyungsoo again. “If you want to date _our_ Chanyeol, you’ll have to get our permission first.”

“Dude, you got a new mom,” Baekhyun teased him, whispering so that only he could hear.

Chanyeol thought about protesting, but Kyungsoo beat him to the punch.

His expression softened as he said, “Of course, Joonmyeon. It was unacceptable and I’m really sorry. I know how much you care about him. You know I would never knowingly hurt him.”

Joonmyeon relaxed just a little. There was barely any noise now from the walls. Chanyeol wondered what exactly his powers were. They sounded terrifying.

“Okay,” he said and turned to glare at Chanyeol. "And you mister. **No** sleepovers.” Chanyeol bowed his head and Baekhyun giggled. “Let’s go to our house,” Joonmyeon continued. “The others are waiting for us there. I’m pretty sure they’re raiding my fridge as we speak.” He tsked. “I’m going to bring the car,” he said to Yifan. “You all come down in five minutes.”

When he left, Yifan was still in awe at Joonmyeon’s motherly outrage. “I think we should try harder to adopt a kid,” he said mostly to himself. “We’ve been trying for ages but with no luck.”

Chanyeol tilted his head. He had never heard anything about them wanting a kid. “You what?” he asked.

Kyungsoo was the one to reply. “It isn't easy for a metahuman to adopt,” he said bitterly. “They usually try to match us with metahumans kids, but the entire process is unnecessarily difficult.”

Chanyeol gaped. “That’s sad. Are you okay?” he asked Yifan.

Yifan seemed uncomfortable, his lips pursed. “We manage,” he said. “We got you for a while. It was almost like the real deal, wasn’t it?” He sounded defeated and Chanyeol felt bad. “Anyways, there are always programs for foster children. It doesn’t matter if they’re a teenager or a baby, we’ll take care of them.”

Kyungsoo patted his back lightly.

“Thank you,” said Yifan. “Let’s go.”

[...]

 

Joonmyeon was right when he suspected that his home was going to be utter chaos. Jongin and Yixing were cooking _something_ in the kitchen. Luhan was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by countless vinyl records and looking through each and every one of them. On the couch two people who could only be Chen and Xiumin were arguing loudly, while the Wii was on, engaging Sehun and another kid in a car race. The table was full of chips, tissues, and water marks from carelessly placed cups.

Nobody turned to face them when they entered. Joonmyeon cleared his throat. Chen continued to argue and the unknown kid yelled in excitement when he won the race. Sehun whined and started throwing pillows at him.

Chanyeol swore that he heard the walls sing again. Joonmyeon looked furious.

“Shut up!” yelled Joonmyeon and they all jumped from shock. The room fell unexpectedly quiet, the only noise the game’s ending credits. Chanyeol gulped.

Joonmyeon was smiling in an instant. “Thank you for coming,” he said, taking off his coat. “You boys, can you please clean the table? Good. Jongdae, fix the sofa please. And Luhan, please return the albums to the drawer. In _alphabetical order_.

Everyone moved like they had done the drill a thousand times. In a few minutes everything was clean and tidy again and they all sat neatly around the table. Looking at Chanyeol. He waved awkwardly.

Chen was the first to break the silence. “Nice to meet you again,” he said. “I’m Jongdae. This is Minseok. We kicked your ass at your finals,” he smiled.

Baekhyun snorted beside him. “You mean I literally kicked your ass. You just won.”

Jongdae raised his eyebrows and smirked. “You’re the one who did the dishes for six months afterwards.” Chanyeol felt like he had missed something about their relationship. He would ask Baekhyun later.

“Hi,” said Minseok. “It’s nice to meet you outside of work. Yixing told us the basics of what happened. You’re very lucky.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “I’m grateful.” He bowed his head.

“This is our sidekick- um-”

“Handsome Wind,” said Sehun, narrowing his eyes.

Baekhyun snorted again and Chanyeol smiled. “You’re a sidekick, Sehun?” he asked devilishly.

“Shut up, Chanyeol,” he mumbled and avoided his eyes. “You know nothing.”

The boy he didn’t know interrupted. “And I’m Tao! Known as Chronobreaker!” he added. Sehun rolled his eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” replied Chanyeol. “Um, you all know each other?”

“No,” said Yixing. “Sehun, Tao, this is Yifan and Joonmyeon,” they all politely smiled at each other. “And this is Jongin and Luhan. They’re not active supers, but they can help us. Thank you for lending us your space, Joonmyeon.”

“I’m happy to help,” he chirped.

“So what’re your powers?” asked Sehun, in a monotone.

“Sehun!” scolded Minseok. “You can’t go around asking people about their powers!”

Sehun shrugged and Jongin laughed.

“I used to be Kai,” he said and smiled brightly. “Teleportation.”

“You worked with D.O,” remembered Tao. “Teleportation sounds so cool!”

“Kids,” Minseok scolded.

“I’m both a telekinetic and telepath,” Luhan said like it was the most common thing in the world. Everyone who didn’t know him at the table turned and looked at him with wide eyes. “What?” he asked. Then looked at Sehun and winked. Sehun turned a bright red.

“Who are you, man?” asked Baekhyun, his eyes almost popping out.

For the first time Chanyeol saw Luhan looking slightly uncomfortable. “I didn’t work with an alias. Both Yifan and I were in the military. Classified things,” he mumbled. No one commented on that. Yifan also seemed unwilling to talk about it.

“What about you?” Sehun asked, staring at Joonmyeon like he was measuring him up. He didn’t seem impressed. Especially after hearing about the other three.

“I’m Suho,” he said simply.

The table erupted.

“You’re Suho!!” cried both Baekhyun and Tao while standing up, their chairs making a loud screeching noise. Sehun’s mouth was wide open. Chanyeol covered his own mouth with his hands.

“You’re Suho?” Chanyeol hissed. “ _The_ Suho?”

Joonmyeon smirked. “That would be me.”

Yifan facepalmed. “Everyone calm down. You two,” he pointed at Baekhyun and Tao who just stared, “Sit down. Chanyeol, Sehun close your mouth please. And Joonmyeon, dear, don’t look so smug.”

“You are like, my idol!” Baekhyun cried out. “Even Poseidon would quiver before you! You defeated The Crocodile, Mr. Octopus, Sonic Brain-”

“Hey, calm down,” Jongdae interrupted him. _He looks kinda jealous_ , thought Chanyeol. “I’m sure he’ll give you an autograph later. Now sit.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Baekhyun burst out defiantly. “I’m not your sidekick anymore. _Remember?_.

Chanyeol swore that Jongdae’s eyes flashed with electricity.

“Okay, let’s all calm down,” Chanyeol interrupted, making everyone quiet their exclamations to look at him, expectantly. “I’m happy that I lived with my childhood idol and didn’t know about it,” he commented quickly and Joonmyeon smiled. “But. Let’s talk about the mission.”

The atmosphere turned serious. Kyungsoo lugged over packages of files full of information on the Commander and his army. “Let’s clue everyone in on what’s going on,” he said.

“The whole city is on alert. Every active super knows about the threat and is ready to act,” Kyungsoo explained. “I’ve been investigating, with Baekhyun as my main partner. The past year we’ve worked with all kinds of supers to pinpoint a weakness. Or at least something that can delay him and his creatures.”

He continued. “Turns out that Minseok can freeze the witches. It doesn’t last long but it can give you an opening. Electricity,” he nodded at Jongdae, “Also bothers them _a lot_. We think that there is no equivalent in their dimension. Plus it’s funny when their hair gets frizzy.”

Chanyeol was the only one who chuckled.

“Oh my god, he must be in love because that joke was horrible, Kyungsoo. C minus for effort,” Baekhyun said, making a face. Chanyeol elbowed him in the ribs.

“Continue,” he encouraged Kyungsoo while Baekhyun wheezed in pain.

Kyungsoo cleared his throat. “Tao can freeze time. The witches don’t freeze completely but they get significantly slower, so we recruited him.”

Chanyeol looked at Tao, impressed. “And Sehun?”

“Sehun decapitates them.”

Chanyeol choked. “Wait- _what?_ ” He turned and looked at Sehun with wide eyes.

Sehun smiled. “Wind Blades,” he explained.

Kyungsoo nodded, expression serious. “We realized that not many things can hurt them. Decapitation-” he took a deep breath. “Doesn’t kill them exactly. It’s weird, but we got our fair share of heads to examine.” Chanyeol shuddered. “These four take care of the witches. Baekhyun and I are on the Commander. I hope we can add you to the equation.”

“Also for the witches?” he asked. “That makes sense, I can kill them.”

Kyungsoo said, “No. Let the team of four handle the witches. We shouldn’t reveal that we have you back until it’s necessary. You mentioned a prophecy?”

“Yes. But- I don’t think I can remember it word for word.”

“I can help with that,” interrupted Luhan. “Give me a moment. May I?”

“Yes, of course,” Chanyeol mumbled and closed his eyes. The tickling feeling returned.

“Okay,” Luhan said after a few minutes. “Kyungsoo, got a pen? Okay, thanks, start.”

And Luhan began to recite:

 _“When the daughters of darkness cry,_  
_The message shall draw nigh,_  
_Of perishing immortality and purifying flames._  
_Destroyer and Maker, the one with two names,_  
_If Fireheart joins and adds his might,  
_ _Then the brother of Antaeus shall bring the light.”_

Nobody talked for a moment.

“Well, that’s grade A terrifying,” Jongdae broke the silence. “And _very_ dramatic.”

“You’re the brother of Antaeus?” Minseok asked curiously.

Kyungsoo tapped his pen on the table. “Yes,” he replied. “It’s a myth. And it’s about my mortal weakness.” He sighed.

“The Commander knows your weakness?” shrieked Jongin. Everyone glanced at each other, confused.

“What is it?” blurted out Sehun. Minseok hit him lightly on the arm. “Ouch. Sorry.”

“It’s not that important to our mission,” insisted Kyungsoo.

“Well,” Yifan interrupted him. “If it’s _in_ the prophecy then maybe it is?”

Kyungsoo stared at him. Everyone else held their breath.

“I’d never thought of that,” he admitted, pursing his lips.

“You don’t have to tell,” said Luhan, darting his eyes. “Just think about what it means and if you can use that information somehow in our plans.” Chanyeol realised that Luhan knew too. _Must be weird for Kyungsoo to reveal his weakness in front of so many people. Even if he trusted them._

“He said I’m Fireheart,” he said to break the ice. “He was sure of it because I managed to kill the damn witches.” Everyone nodded.

“Now,” said Joonmyeon. “Was light literal or metaphorical?”

Everyone stared at him questioningly.

“What?” he said. “Am I the only one who thought of it? Baekhyun’s light.” All heads snapped around to look at Baekhyun simultaneously. He shrank away from the stares, huddling in his chair.

Kyungsoo was speechless. “Yes!” he finally whispered. “That makes sense. Joonmyeon, you’re a genius. Chanyeol, does he know?”

Chanyeol tilted his head questioningly.

“Did the Commander mention anything about that? A second meaning? That there is a third metahuman involved?”

“No-?” he stuttered. “I don’t think so?” He held Baekhyun’s hand under the table. It was trembling.

“So he doesn’t suspect?” asked Jongin. “That might be a good advantage.”

Baekhyun took a ragged breath. “He might have thought about it,” he whispered. “You know that he’s... careful around me.”

Chanyeol raised his eyebrow.

Baekhyun forced himself to smile, tightening his hand around Chanyeol’s. “He’s my dad after all,” he said, shrugging.

Chanyeol blinked. Jongdae must have been shocked too, because Minseok jumped out of his chair with a yelp of surprise, his hair sparking with static electricity. Sehun and Yixing stared at the table--they already knew from school. Luhan seemed sad. Tao chewed on his cheek but said nothing. As for Joonmyeon, Yifan, and Jongin, they were gaping at Baekhyun. A bit insensitive, in Chanyeol’s opinion.

“And _that_ gives us an advantage,” said Kyungsoo. “Baekhyun, don’t feel ashamed. You try your best for all of us. You should be proud.”

Baekhyun sniffled and nodded. Chanyeol really wanted to hug him, but instead he settled for wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Baekhyun leaned closer.

“I think this is enough for today,” Kyungsoo decided, looking concernedly at both Baekhyun and Chanyeol. “From now on we’ll meet daily in my gym for further planning. I’ll send a copy of the prophecy to all of you, in case you detect something new. We don’t know when we’ll face the Commander again, so we should be as prepared as possible.”

Everyone said their goodbyes. Jongin teleported with Tao and Sehun (only after they begged him for a while. They promised him to treat him to lunch and he finally obliged).

Baekhyun approached Chanyeol and hugged him. “I’m going out with Jongdae,” he admitted, smiling, but his eyes still seemed tired. Chanyeol ruffled his hair.

“You should tell me all about it, later,” he whispered. “I didn’t know you liked the snarky type.” Baekhyun lightly smacked him on the chest, but a smile played in the corners of his mouth. Chanyeol giggled.

After Baekhyun and Jongdae said their goodbyes, Yixing and Luhan invited Minseok to lunch. He cautiously accepted. Yifan tried to warn him about something, discreetly, but Minseok didn’t notice. Chanyeol hoped it wasn’t anything important.

In the end, it was down to the four of them again. Joonmyeon paced in the living room, doing chores that did not exist, anything to avoid leaving him alone with Kyungsoo. There really was no dust on that table.

Kyungsoo smiled at him when Joonmyeon wasn’t looking. “I’m going home. Please rest.”

Chanyeol pouted and Kyungsoo laughed. “Eat with them,” he insisted. “Or Joonmyeon will kill me. Sleep, and we can meet again in the evening.”

“Like a date?” he asked, his heart pounding.

“Like a date,” Kyungsoo confirmed and opened the door. “Come here,” he said before he brought his face down and pecked him quickly on the lips. “See you.”

“Oh!” Chanyeol yelped. “What should I wear?”

Kyungsoo winked. “Nothing fancy. Let’s go for coffee or something sweet. I have a patrol to do at night.”

“You cheap-” Chanyeol stopped himself. “Fine,” he whined.

“That means **no** sleepover!” yelled Joonmyeon from the living room.

“Don’t worry, Joonmyeon!” replied Kyungsoo. “I don’t put out on the first date!”

Then he ran for his life.

[...]

 

When Chanyeol woke up from his nap, he felt better already. _Everything happened yesterday_ , he realized. It all seemed so long ago.

Kyungsoo liked him. _Him._ Chanyeol.

He covered his face with a pillow and giggled. They had a date.

Taking a shower, he couldn’t help but think of him. He carefully rubbed himself clean, wanting to smell nice everywhere. He decided to shave his nonexistent beard, and then styled his hair nicely. Chanyeol liked the new color more than red. It didn’t stick out nearly as much, and he looked more mature. Mature was good.

Kyungsoo picked him up with his car around eight o’clock. Before getting out, Joonmyeon reminded him to call if anything went wrong, or if he felt uncomfortable, or anything. Chanyeol thanked him and left the house in a flash. He was almost certain that he heard Joonmyeon tsking at his haste.

Kyungsoo waited for him outside, leaning on the passenger door of his car, posture relaxed. The car was the one he used as a civilian, a sleek black Chevrolet. Chanyeol immediately noticed that Kyungsoo had tidied himself up more than usual, and smiled at the thought. Kyungsoo wanted to look good for him.

“Whoa,” Kyungsoo said when he leaned over, ducking to avoid the almost kiss. “You’re so affectionate, we just started dating.”

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes. “You-” he said. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he whined. “Yesterday you-”

“Yesterday I wasn’t thinking,” he interrupted him and opened the door for him, gesturing for him to go inside. Chanyeol complied. Shutting the door behind Chanyeol, Kyungsoo walked around the car to get to his seat. “And I knew less than I know now,” he said as he opened the door and sat in front of the wheel. “Let’s take this slow.”

“That makes no sense,” Chanyeol said, surprised. “Did Joonmyeon threaten you?”

“No. Okay, yes,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t matter.” Kyungsoo started driving. “I want to be serious about us.”

Chanyeol raised his eyebrows. “You do?”

“Of course.”

Chanyeol sat up properly on his seat, observing the road. “Does that mean that you weren’t serious about Mark?”

Kyungsoo snorted. “Idiot,” he said. “Of course I was. But I didn’t know Mark as well as I know you.”

“Mark is still me.”

“Yes. But Mark seemed more… confident.”

“You mean you thought I had experience?” he wiggled his eyebrows. “You don’t want to taint me?”

Kyungsoo looked at him sideways, the corners of his lips rising. “Definitely not,” he teased. “You always did seem like a hopeless virgin.”

“Hey! How would you know-”

“Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol froze. “What the hell. Why would Baekhyun mention-”

“Between drunken sobs that you were gone, he expressed his sorrow that you died a virgin,” Kyungsoo laughed. Chanyeol’s eye twitched.

“I’m gonna kill him-” he whispered. “Torture him. I’m gonna set his PS4 on fire. And all of his video games.”

“Let’s calm down, you little pyromaniac,” Kyungsoo said, and then changed the subject. “I liked Mark. But I wasn’t sure what I wanted from him. Yesterday was… something impulsive. Don’t you agree? But with you- I want to take care of you. I’m sure of it.”

Chanyeol smiled. “Awww. You mean you love me?” he fluttered his eyelashes.

Kyungsoo didn’t look at him, but he chuckled. “I don’t declare my love on the first date either,” he said. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just said I like you.”

“So you do like me!”

“Would I bring you on a date if I didn’t? Don’t be stupid.”

For some reason Chanyeol couldn’t stop smiling at that. ‘Like’ was enough for him. At least for now.

 

[...]

 

Kyungsoo chose a fancy pastry shop. Chanyeol didn’t know what to pick. In the end they ordered two desserts even though Kyungsoo wouldn't eat any, so that Chanyeol could taste both the red velvet cake and the white chocolate chestnut tart. They were both delicious.

“You really like sweets, huh?

Chanyeol swallowed his bite. “Yes, I love them.”

Kyungsoo didn’t comment, taking a sip from his black coffee.

Chanyeol watched Kyungsoo's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “When does your patrol begin?”

“At midnight.”

“You’re like... Cinderella.”

Apparently Kyungsoo didn’t like his joke because he glared. Chanyeol blushed and busied himself with his food.

“Thank you for taking care of Baekhyun,” he said after a while. “You two really get along.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “He’s a nice kid. Makes me laugh.”

“Don’t I make you laugh?”

“No, you usually make me mad.”

Chanyeol pouted. Kyungsoo sighed and uncrossed his legs. He leaned forward, settling his elbows on the table, and spoke softly.

“In a good way. I just care about you a lot. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not a kid,” Chanyeol mumbled. “You don’t need to be so afraid.”

“I’m afraid because I care.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “What about Jongdae? Can we trust him with Baekhyun?”

Kyungsoo laughed from his nose. “Yes,” he said. “Jongdae’s cool. When I took Baekhyun onto my team, he came by and threatened me that he would fry me if anything ever happened to him. He’s pretty sweet if you ignore how loud and obnoxious he is.”

Chanyeol nodded. “That’s good,” he said. “Baekhyun likes him a lot.”

“Yeah. I just wish I didn’t have overprotective supers all over me, threatening me.”

Chanyeol laughed. “Did you finish your coffee?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to go home?”

Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow.

“No funny business, I know,” Chanyeol said. “I just like familiar places more. And I would like to talk freely about _other stuff._ We have… like three hours left.”

Kyungsoo nodded. “Did you finish your dessert?”

“Yes, I’m full.”

“Okay, let me pay first.”

[...]

 

When they arrived at his apartment, Kyungsoo was stubborn in keeping his distance. Chanyeol whined but accepted it.

“It’s not fair,” he mumbled when Kyungsoo pushed him away again, while he tried to cook. “The only reason you can do that is because you’re super strong.”

“The only reason I can do that is because I’m good at martial arts and you’re rusty. You should start practicing. Starting tomorrow.”

Chanyeol didn’t talk for a while. “What about Dankook?” he asked.

Kyungsoo stopped his movements and carefully turned to look at him. “What do you want to do? If you don’t want to get involved in this, then you have every right. You _know_ that.”

“Yes. I know. I’m just conflicted. I want to go and study music, but at the same time there’s this other huge responsibility.”

“I get it,” Kyungsoo said. “Think about it. Go there tomorrow and enroll. I’ll help you as much as I can with your lessons and projects. But I think you _should_ practice your fighting, at least until the threat is eliminated. For your own safety.”

“I know. I’ll just be- dead tired.”

Kyungsoo shook his head and returned to his cooking. “You’ll stop working at the spa,” he stated. “And you’ll find time to rest. Everything’s going to be fine. Okay?”

“Okay,” he replied. Chanyeol didn’t believe it, but Kyungsoo saying it made him feel a bit better.

 

 

The meal was simple but delicious as always.

“Joonmyeon would kill me if he learned I brought you here,” joked Kyungsoo. “Just tell him we ate out.”

“I have a price,” said Chanyeol. “What will you give me?”

Kyungsoo tickled him and Chanyeol yelped. He almost fell off the sofa they were snuggling on, but Kyungsoo held him tight and rearranged him so that their limbs would tangle together. Chanyeol buried his face in Kyungsoo’s chest and breathed, nuzzling close.

“You like scents huh?”

He raised his head to look at Kyungsoo, innocently confused.

“You sniff me all the time. Ever since I met you, even when you were my sidekick.”

Chanyeol blushed. “I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I hadn’t realized.”

“It’s cute,” he assured him.

Chanyeol moved, bringing his face to the same height as Kyungsoo’s.

“Why is Baekhyun’s dad like that?” he asked. “I mean. What does he want to achieve?”

Kyungsoo furrowed his eyebrows. “His motives?” he asked. Chanyeol blinked, taking in all the details in Kyungsoo’s face. He had really nice eyelashes.

“There are plenty of reasons to become an anarchist,” he said, interrupting Chanyeol’s wandering thoughts. “Your family might raise you like that. Your friends might share such beliefs with you. What’s for sure though is that the foundation is anger. When you decide to use this anger against society to make a statement, no matter what the cost, then-” he made a pause. “You end up as the one who’s wrong.”

“The Commander is angry about his wife?” Chanyeol whispered.

“Yes. And about the fact that they dealt with him like he was a criminal while he still wasn’t. I think he went mad. Being an underdog is an overwhelmingly strong feeling.”

“What does he want then? Just- Destruction? What’s his army about?”

“It’s about the State,” admitted Kyungsoo. “He wants to take over. He doesn’t care about normal people, so he lets his witches eat them.” He shuddered and moved a bit closer to Chanyeol. “He also likes to sweet-talk you about his beliefs. He says true things about how the State has mistreated metahumans. And it hurts that he’s right. But they way he wants to achieve this is--despicable.”

“Is our State so bad?” Chanyeol widened his eyes. “I-”

“It’s no angel,” replied Kyungsoo. “Scandals are rumored all the time, especially between supers. About mistreatments, experiments, orphaned metahuman children-”

“They would never-”

“Actively… no. But we have no local legislation about it. We have only just signed the International Metahuman Convention. When protecting both metahumans and humans, there is compromise to be made, so both parties had to give and take something. And some States take advantage of this balance to... experiment. Putting metahumans to death for the sake of ‘humankind and peace’, experimenting on their genes, using them for military purposes, and so on.”

Chanyeol gaped. “Are we-” he stutter. “Did we-”

Kyungsoo sighed. “We do have a pretty good administration right now. We have accepted and given political asylum to mistreated metahumans, like Yifan,” Chanyeol gasped, “and Luhan. But there is no guarantee of safety in our system. If our administration changes for the worse, then God only knows what will happen.”

“Why don’t I know anything about this?” Chanyeol asked and sat up. Kyungsoo didn’t move.

“Because we don’t talk about politics at school. And because they want to hide it from you. They want soldiers, not rebels.”

“I’m nobody’s pawn!”

“You’re right, you’re not. This is the reality we face, and all metahumans in this State fight for their rights every single day. What I’m trying to say is-” he paused and sighed. “The Commander likes to talk about it. He’ll say things, _horrible_ things that are all true. And he’ll blame it all on the State. Maybe he’s right.”

Chanyeol widened his eyes, but Kyungsoo continued. “But that doesn’t excuse his means to an end,” he said, sitting up and intertwining their fingers. “Your political views are yours to shape, I’m in no way trying to tell you what to think. What I know is that I do it to save people. I have a goal and that’s what I’m going to do. If you ever face him again, don’t feel guilty about the things he’ll throw at you. Don’t freeze. Don’t think you’re wrong.”

“Still,” Chanyeol whispered. “You want me to fight him, but not the State. They’re hurting metahumans and I-”

“Our little anarchist,” Kyungsoo cooed at him and ruffled his hair. Chanyeol made an annoyed expression. “I’m trying to emotionally prepare you for the things that he’ll use against you, Chanyeol,” he said. “He tries to manipulate every super he encounters that way, by making you feel guilty and angry. Promise me it won’t work on you.”

Chanyeol swallowed with difficulty. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll think about it.” Then he raised his eyes again. “Do we at least try to fix this?” he asked hopelessly.

“Yes, of course. We’ve already started. But it’ll take an international treaty and a lot of negotiation. Luhan’s on the team for our State. The problem lies with the States that won’t agree to sign. Rescue programs have grown in number for the past three years. Jongin and Joonmyeon are a part of them too.

“I thought they weren’t active.”

“They’re not. You have to be retired and have no ties with any government to join these kinds of organizations.

“What about you?”

“I still have a few years left on my contract,” he admitted. “And our State currently has a metahuman-friendly political direction, so I’m fine with it. I’ll consider it when I have to renew it.”

Chanyeol nodded in agreement.

“Enough grown-up talk,” said Kyungsoo. “We have half an hour until we have to go. Come here.”

Chanyeol hugged him tightly and closed his eyes. Kyungsoo dropped them on the sofa again, the shows on the TV they had started a few hours ago already forgotten in the background.

 

[...]

 

Chanyeol was dead tired.

Every morning he attended school. Kyungsoo wouldn’t drive him there, because it’s not _right_ to date a teacher. Chanyeol snorted. Technicalities. He hated buses. He always had. He would then go to Kyungsoo’s place for lunch. Joonmyeon didn’t approve, but he didn’t object either. After taking a quick nap, he would wake up early in the afternoon. Kyungsoo would usually be practicing in the basement. After they both had a cup of coffee, the two would go to Kyungsoo’s gym and duel. Between breaks, Kyungsoo helped him with his homework.

Now, fighting came easily to him. He only needed but a few hours to feel how to move his legs and arms correctly again. He just had to build more muscle because he had lost it all after his burning. And finally, there was the problem of the physical contact.

Kyungsoo probably knew so he fought in full gear. To Chanyeol’s disappointment, his face was almost always covered. Still he pecked him, sweet as can be, whenever he could. Just to mess with his dear mentor. Being sweet didn’t help that much. After all, Chanyeol didn’t feel that 'sweet' described his intentions.

He had to cover awkward hard-ons all the time. His face was flushed from the embarrassment, his body feeling suddenly hot, then cold again. Chanyeol was the definition of sexual frustration.

Kyungsoo’s sculpted body was just a distraction. The way he manhandled him like it was nothing, eyes turning dark, made Chanyeol want to scream and surrender. Kyungsoo probably wouldn’t like that. But at least he wasn’t as unfazed as he pretended to be. One day, Chanyeol decided to take advantage of it.

With a big push that hurt his back more than he calculated, he managed to flip their position, sitting on top of Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo groaned and went lax under him. Chanyeol swore he felt something touching his butt, and did a small victory cheer inside his mind.

“You like this?” he asked, wiggling his butt. Kyungsoo sighed. He pulled his mask down and glared.

“You do,” Chanyeol said, mostly to himself, and smiled. “Oof-”

He was pinned under Kyungsoo in a flash. Kyungsoo grinned and held him still. “Only if you can keep it up,” he said, panting.

“Ouch, my head,” he whined. “That was hard.”

“Stop whining. You’ve had worse.”

Chanyeol pouted. “I like being on top of you.”

Kyungsoo snorted and let him loose, flipping gracefully on his side. “God, Chanyeol, do you hear what you’re saying?” He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, what a sexually frustrated teenager. Don’t be so shameless.”

“If I’m shameless, then what are you? Don’t pretend like I didn’t feel what you’ve got there right now.”

Kyungsoo had the decency to blush a little. “At least I can control it,” he said. “Don’t look at me like that, it won’t work.”

“We’ve been dating for like a month. Come on,” he whined.

“A month is not a long time,” he reminded him and got up.

“But we’ve known each other for over a year,” Chanyeol followed him, petulant. “And I’ve been pining after you for that long. Have mercy.”

Kyungsoo faced him. “That long?” he smirked. “I didn’t know.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “Because you’re so dense. I don’t go around following everyone like a puppy you know.”

“Really? I could swear that’s how you follow Joonmyeon. And Baekhyun.”

“Shut up. Can’t you touch me already? I’m tired of only kissing and-”

He swore he didn’t even see Kyungsoo coming. Chanyeol was instantly lifted from the floor and pinned to the wall, Kyungsoo’s face so close to his neck that he shuddered.

“Don’t tell me to shut up,” the other man told him with a smooth voice, like there was no strain in lifting Chanyeol’s entire body weight.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol gulped. “I won’t do it again.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What should I do?” he whispered. “I can prove it to you.”

Kyungsoo raised his head to look at him. Chanyeol could imagine how wrecked he looked just by the change of Kyungsoo’s expression. “Damn, Chanyeol,” his whisper came, barely audible. Their lips were almost touching, the thin air between them electrifying.

Chanyeol was the one to close the distance. Kyungsoo reacted eagerly, taking charge of the kiss and pushing him further into the wall. Chanyeol moaned and arched his body as Kyungsoo moved his kisses sideways to his ears and down his neck. He felt so small when held like this. So secure. Chanyeol passed his fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair, grabbing it at the nape and making him meet his lips again. Kyungsoo obeyed, slipping a hand under Chanyeol’s shirt. Chanyeol thrusted instinctively, rubbing himself on Kyungsoo’s stomach.

“You’re so hard,” Kyungsoo said between kisses. Chanyeol tried to maneuver his hips to thrust directly into Kyungsoo’s crotch. “Let’s take this back to my place,” he proposed. “I don’t have to patrol tonight.”

Chanyeol whined. “Why not here...I’m so… I can’t even talk--” he moaned breathlessly.

Kyungsoo smirked and let Chanyeol fall from where he was resting on his thighs. “We won’t do _that_ here. I’m not taking you against a wall and plus, it’s unhygienic.”

Chanyeol groaned, standing up and adjusting his pants so he could walk, albeit slightly more bowlegged than usual. “What a neat freak.”

Kyungsoo kept walking towards the garage. He reached for the doorknob and looked at him. “Coming?”

Chanyeol couldn't move fast enough.

 

They arrived at Kyungsoo’s apartment, after what felt like forever. As soon as he shut the door behind them, Kyungsoo backed Chanyeol against the wall. Chanyeol wrapped his legs around him, letting himself be carried to Kyungsoo’s bedroom. The hero dropped him on top of his bed, which smelled so much of _Kyungsoo_ Chanyeol felt dizzy from the overstimulation. Kyungsoo got rid of his own shirt with a swift movement and was on top of him in a second.

“Off- off,” Chanyeol whined, wanting to feel more, press himself against more of Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo raised himself just a little so that he could get Chanyeol’s shirt off. He stared.

Chanyeol blushed, realizing that Kyungsoo was mapping his body with his eyes. “You’ve seen it all before,” he dared to say.

Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows. “You’re more fit now,” he pointed out, reaching out his hand to gently feel the firm belly that flexed at his touch. Chanyeol swore the whole area felt numb afterwards. “You used to have scars here?” Kyungsoo whispered and came closer, removing Chanyeol’s pants with slow movements.

“Yes,” Chanyeol breathed as he moved his torso and legs to help him. “It was pretty ugly.”

“Don’t say that,” Kyungsoo said and kissed him there. Chanyeol let slip a moan so loud that Kyungsoo paused. He looked at him, a question lingering between them. “You can take them off,” Chanyeol encouraged, biting his lip.

“You’re sure?” Kyungsoo gently touched the inside of his thighs, at the bottom edge of his boxers. “You know you can always say no.”

Chanyeol hummed. “I know,” he insisted. “Off.”

Kyungsoo played with the elastic on his waist, lifting it a little and then releasing it again with a small sound. Chanyeol wiggled to protest. Carefully, he dragged it down, revealing him slowly.

Chanyeol sharply inhaled.

“What do you want?” Kyungsoo asked, obviously trying to to distract him. His eyes were trained on Chanyeol’s face and Chanyeol felt himself blushing again.

“What do you mean?” he breathed as Kyungsoo passed his underwear off of one leg and then moved to the other.

“I can blow you,” Kyungsoo proposed and Chanyeol moaned just at the thought. Kyungsoo threw his underwear on the floor and finally covered him again with his body. “Or,” he breathed on his neck, blowing lightly at sensitive spots and pecking, “I can open you with my fingers nice and slow.” Chanyeol took a sharp breath when he lightly sucked on his earlobe. “What I’m trying to say is, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo said, his breathing ragged, “that we don’t have to go all the way. If you’re not sure-”

“But I want it.” Chanyeol distanced his face a little so that he could face him. Kyungsoo’s eyes were shiny and unfocused, his lips swollen and red from the kisses. It felt like a dream.

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to say something but Chanyeol didn’t let him. “I know I’m not experienced,” he admitted. “But I want this so much. _Really_.”

Something changed in Kyungsoo’s eyes. They were suddenly very awake and attentive. Chanyeol shuddered. “Sure?” he asked again.

Chanyeol nodded. “Never been so sure,” he replied.

 

Kyungsoo opened him nice and slowly with lubed fingers while scrambling his thoughts with kisses. Chanyeol hissed at the first intrusion but Kyungsoo held him still and sucked on his lips. He tentatively moved his finger inside him and Chanyeol moaned. Even though it was still a weird feeling, he also found it so hot that his entire body ached with desire. He wiggled, trying to get more inside.

Kyungsoo laughed. “Don’t be impatient,” he warned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Chanyeol peeked down his body, looking at Kyungsoo’s finger disappearing inside him, and flushed red. “You’re still wearing your pants,” he whined. “Unfair.”

“I just don’t want to intimidate you- Ouch! Chanyeol, that hurt!” he scolded. “You _bit_ me.”

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes, revealing no shame. “Don’t be cocky,” he replied.

“I was just joking,” Kyungsoo mumbled. “I’ll add another now, okay?”

“Okay,” he breathed and tried to relax some more. The feeling was still alien but he was really beginning to enjoy it. He imagined Kyungsoo’s cock right where his fingers were, thrusting like--

“Chanyeol, I don’t think it’s time for you to come. It’s too soon,” Kyungsoo chuckled. Chanyeol opened his eyes. Kyungsoo lifted a finger and teasingly gathered the precome that was leaking off his cock. He made a move to wipe it on the sheets but Chanyeol stopped him. He took his hand and guided it to his mouth.

Kyungsoo’s eyes widened as Chanyeol sucked on his finger. “Fuck-” he whispered. “That’s so hot.” His fingers inside him twitched and Chanyeol shook from the shock, releasing the finger with a loud, popping sound.

“Oh my god,” he sobbed.

Kyungsoo took a predatory grin. “There it is.”

“Amazing,” Chanyeol said and ran his hands through his own hair.

“Someone’s enjoying this.”

Chanyeol gently nudged Kyungsoo’s shoulder with his knee. “Shut up.”

“You promised not to say that again,” he said, using his ‘instructor’ voice.

Chanyeol widened his eyes. Kyungsoo moved his fingers again, hitting just the right spot again. He swore he saw white in his vision and-

Kyungsoo was holding his cock tightly, preventing his release. Chanyeol whimpered. “What-” he tried to say.

“Hold it,” he warned. “We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” He added another finger. “Just this one and we’re ready,” he promised when Chanyeol groaned. “You take them so well. Relax a little more, babe. You’re so good for me.”

Chanyeol opened his legs even more than he thought he could. Kyungsoo kissed the inside of his thighs again, whispering sweet words. “I think you’re ready,” he announced after a few more minutes of pressing and exploring. Chanyeol left out a big breath he didn’t knew he was holding.

Kyungsoo removed his fingers and Chanyeol clenched onto nothing. The sudden emptiness felt weird and he rearranged himself on the pillows as Kyungsoo sat up. Kyungsoo removed both his pants and underwear with one move.

Chanyeol looked. And looked.

Maybe Kyungsoo was right about not intimidating him. He gulped. It was not that he was impressive in length, but rather in thickness. While his was longer and a bit curved, Kyungsoo’s was straight and plump. Little veins protruded from the base, but it seemed as sturdy as his owner. It really suited him, Chanyeol thought and his mouth watered. He really, _really_ wanted a taste of that, but he should leave that for later. They had plenty of time anyways.

Kyungsoo rolled a condom on, lubed himself up, and then hovered over Chanyeol. “You’re sure?” he whispered. “It’s okay if--”

“Oh, just do it,” he sighed. Kyungsoo stared into his eyes, seeking further consent. “I’m sure.”

The first push made him hiss a little. Kyungsoo stopped right away. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “You’re tight.” He pulled out and poured more lube on top.

“It’s cold,” Chanyeol hissed. “Quickly!”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “Okay, okay,” he reassured him. “You don’t feel any pain right?”

“No!”

“Okay, if you do-”

Chanyeol flipped them over. Kyungsoo looked so surprised that he would’ve laughed if he weren’t so frustrated. Chanyeol managed to smirk though. _Finally,_ he took Kyungsoo’s cock into his hands and pumped it a few times. Kyungsoo moaned and dropped his head back into the pillow.

Chanyeol hovered over him, expression focused. He touched the tip to his entrance and shyly dropped himself down a little. He closed his eyes at the sensation and bit his lip. Kyungsoo caught his waist tightly, like he was trying to keep him steady. Chanyeol would find bruises there, later.

He sank down more.

It was a nice stretch. He had expected it to hurt more, but Kyungsoo had done a good job of preparing him. When he reached the base, he let out an uneven breath.

“You good?” Kyungsoo moaned.

“God, yes.” He lifted himself up and then dropped back, letting out a broken cry. He did it again, this time rolling his hips, trying to find a good angle. After a few tries he found it. His whole body shuddered. He clenched around Kyungsoo, who hissed and tightened his grip on his hips. Chanyeol stroked himself, enjoying the feeling. “Why didn’t we do this earlier?” Chanyeol asked and moved his hips again. “It’s amazing,” he moaned.

Kyungsoo nodded in agreement. He suddenly thrusted up, snapping his hips, and Chanyeol groaned. “Amazing,” he said. “Do that again.” When he did, Chanyeol dropped his head back and went slack.

“You’re tired?” Kyungsoo asked, thrusting up again.

“My thighs are burning,” Chanyeol replied. “I would’ve been fine if you hadn’t exhausted me at the gym-”

He was below Kyungsoo in a second. He shook his head to get rid of the dizziness. “Whoa-” he murmured. “I liked that.”

“You always like it rough,” Kyungsoo pointed out and this time, he began thrusting hard and fast. Chanyeol hooked his legs around Kyungsoo’s waist as the super’s thrusts became more and more relentless. Without realizing it, his fingers dug into Kyungsoo’s back, but his former mentor didn’t seem to mind. Chanyeol closed his eyes, concentrating only on the sensation inside him, the delicious friction, the sound of their bodies joining and pulling away again and again.

He was so caught up in the moment that he almost didn’t feel his orgasm approaching until right when it hit him. Chanyeol came all over his stomach, letting out a low moan of triumph. Kyungsoo was sweating on top of him and hissed as he felt Chanyeol spasm around him.

“Fuck, you came untouched,” he whispered and dropped just a little to kiss him. He rocked his hips, faster and faster. Chanyeol purposefully clenched harder around him, making Kyungsoo gasp and moan into the side of his neck. Chanyeol definitely didn’t want this to end too soon, enjoying the feeling of the other body moving above and inside him.

When Kyungsoo reached his peak, Chanyeol felt his cock pulse inside him. He shuddered at the sensation, enjoying the feeling of being filled almost as much as he had his own orgasm. Kyungsoo went lax, comfortably resting his weight on Chanyeol. He nuzzled his nose affectionately on the sensitive skin between Chanyeol’s neck and jaw. Chanyeol hummed blissfully, moving his hand up to ruffle his boyfriend’s hair in affection. He then loudly smooched Kyungsoo’s forehead, who laughed at the over-the-top gesture. Kyungsoo looked him in the eyes and raised himself a little. He then dropped to his side, next to Chanyeol. A suddenly petulant Chanyeol, who whined as the other man removed himself from inside him. Kyungsoo kissed him again, this time a sweet and chaste kiss. Chanyeol smiled.

“That felt amazing. You’re amazing,” he purred and hugged Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo agreed with a gentle laugh and hugged him back, kissing the top of his head.

“Give me a moment,” he whispered. Chanyeol reluctantly let him go. Kyungsoo sat up, tying the condom and going to the bathroom. He returned with a wet towel and a water bottle.

“Drink,” he instructed and offered it to Chanyeol. “Don’t get dehydrated. Joonmyeon would kill me. And I really don’t want to explain _this_ to him,” he joked. He gently wiped the dry cum off of Chanyeol’s belly, which tickled. Chanyeol tried not to laugh. He focused on Kyungsoo.

He seemed relaxed. Almost radiant. There was a glow to his skin, a spark in his eyes that was not there before. Chanyeol raised his hand and placed a strand of his hair behind his ear. Kyungsoo looked at him fondly.

“You look different,” Chanyeol observed.

“I do?”

Chanyeol nodded.

“I’m just happy,” he confessed and laid beside him again. Chanyeol snuggled into his chest. Kyungsoo kissed the top of his head again. “I’ve liked you for a long time too,” he continued and Chanyeol felt himself dozing off. “Longer than you think. I’m just- so happy right now.”

Chanyeol could have turned his head and see how Kyungsoo looked, but he didn’t. His voice sounded emotional enough. Maybe that was how happiness looked on Kyungsoo. Radiant skin, shining eyes, soft melodic voice. And the steady beating of his heart, pulsing through Chanyeol, synchronizing them.

Chanyeol closed his eyes and smiled, lulled to sleep by Kyungsoo’s heartbeat, the familiar warmth taking him to the land of dreams.

 

[...]

 

He woke up because someone was aggressively ringing the bell. Chanyeol reluctantly opened his eyes. Kyungsoo removed himself off him and quickly donned a pair of pants. Chanyeol blinked and checked the time. It was 1 AM in the morning.

“I swear,” he heard Kyungsoo rasping, “if this is Joonmyeon-”

He drowsily put his pants on too, ignoring the small burning feeling near his tailbone, and stretched his arms and legs. If Joonmyeon was about to barge into the room, he better put on some clothes.

Heading towards the door, he froze. That was _not_ Joonmyeon’s voice. He was pretty sure it was Jongdae. He ran to the living room, shirt forgotten in his hands.

Jongdae seemed panicked, even from afar. He was in full gear but his hair was disheveled and his eyes were ready to pop out, as he frantically talked with a gaping Kyungsoo. They whispered aggressively, Jongdae making gestures.

Chanyeol came closer, ignoring Jongdae who stared at his appearance. He probably had hickeys all over him.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”

Jongdae opened his mouth to talk, but Kyungsoo beat him to the punch.

“It’s Baekhyun,” he said. “He’s missing.”

 

[...]

 

Chanyeol took a few seconds to react. “What do you mean he’s missing?” he hissed. “Did you check his house?”

Jongdae rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he finally replied with a panicky voice. “And the gym. And Joonmyeon’s house. And our favorite restaurant. And here,” he said before Chanyeol could say something. “He’s not answering his phone either and there’s no reason for him to be out at this hour. You don’t have patrol tonight, right?” he asked Kyungsoo.

“No, we don’t.”

Chanyeol felt panic taking over his body. “Did you call the team? Does his phone work or-”

“I called everyone. They’re gathering at Joonmyeon’s as we speak. His phone lets calls through but he’s not answering. I’m having someone track it for me, she’ll call any second.”

“I’m going to get ready,” Kyungsoo said. “This sounds serious.”

“I hope this idiot just forgot it,” Chanyeol mumbled mostly to himself. “You didn’t fight or anything, right?” he asked Jongdae, who shook his head in denial.

“Everything was fine. We went for dinner and I dropped him off at the bus station around eleven. He didn’t call as usual when he arrived home, so I called him an hour ago. I thought he just dozed off and forgot, but just to be sure, I passed by his house during my patrol. There was nobody there.”

“What about his Grandmother?” Chanyeol asked, growing more fearful by the second. “She’s-”

“He convinced her to travel around Europe like she’d always wanted,” Jongdae said. “She’s not here to-”

“His grandmother protected him!” Chanyeol yelled. “Why the hell would he do that, when he knows his dad-”

Jongdae’s eyes became hard. “His grandmother doesn’t have a lot of time. He tries to make it easier for her.”

Chanyeol opened and closed his mouth. “I can’t believe this-” he whispered, turning his back to Jongdae and covering his mouth with his hand. He tasted salty tears and sniffled. “Just give me a moment,” he rasped. “Where are my shoes?”

“Chanyeol, come here!” Kyungsoo yelled from the bedroom. Chanyeol dragged his feet and got inside.

“Can you find my belt?” Kyungsoo asked as he put his voice-altering device on. “Thank you. Are you alright?”

Chanyeol looked at him. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “I’ll help.”

Kyungsoo stopped his movements. “Chanyeol…”

“If _he_ has him, then I’ll help. He’s my best friend, I won’t just hide and watch, I-”

“Okay, okay I got it,” Kyungsoo calmed him. “And I understand. Your family? You realize the risk?”

“Yes. And my family will be safe. You said the Commander doesn’t know where they are.”

Kyungsoo sighed. “I hope so. I knew this day would come sooner or later. Sit.” He fumbled in a drawer. “A-ha! Found it.”

He gave Chanyeol a nicely wrapped package. Chanyeol stared at it, feeling lost.

“Delayed present,” Kyungsoo said. “For passing your audition. Put it on, I’ll help you.”

Chanyeol opened it with trembling hands. He touched the light and soft, dark fabric and unfolded the suit.

It was elegant. A slightly darker pattern flowed through the suit, making it pleasing to the eye yet not too flashy. It had pockets thoughtfully placed to store all sorts of things and came with a belt full of gear.

“Thank you,” he whimpered as Kyungsoo helped him slip on the tight fabric.

“It’s fire and water resistant,” Kyungsoo said as he pushed Chanyeol’s arms through the sleeves. “Also isothermic, so you won’t feel too cold or warm. But it lets your skin breathe, so you won’t sweat inside.”

“It feels amazing,” he reassured him, stretching his hands. “I hope I won’t have to use it.”

Kyungsoo made him sit on the bed as he put on his boots and tied the laces. They were the right size and felt so light that when he got up, he felt like he could fly.

“I didn’t get you a head piece,” Kyungsoo sighed. “Because I wanted you to chose your mark. If we get out like this, you have to hide your face somehow.”

Chanyeol looked around him to find anything that could help. He finally stared at the mirror. He inspected his appearance. He looked good and felt his chest tightening at the thought. He wasn’t prepared to wear a suit so soon. But Baekhyun was in danger and-

He touched his face with his thumb. A trace of soot followed his finger wherever he moved it. He covered the area around his eyes and then dropped it down to his cheeks, in flame-like patterns. When he was done, he turned to seek Kyungsoo’s confirmation.

Kyungsoo lifted his eyebrows. “It’s good,” he said. “But I knew I shouldn’t let you chase those raccoons.”

 

[...]

 

The drive towards Joonmyeon’s house was tense. Jongdae kept playing with his phone, the antsiness almost driving Chanyeol mad. When it finally rang, they all jumped on their seats. Jongdae replied within a second.

“Soojung,” he said. “Did you find it?”

Chanyeol wished that he had super hearing. He turned his head and stared at Jongdae, trying to to figure out his expression. Jongdae’s lips were a thin line. “Thank you,” he replied after a while. “Yes, send me the exact coordinates. I’ll call you if I have any trouble. Bye.”

He inhaled through his nose. Kyungsoo tapped the wheel with his finger.

“It’s in front of his house,” he informed them.

Chanyeol almost yelped when the car took a sharp turn, tires squealing. Kyungsoo maneuvered it into an 180, now heading towards Baekhyun’s house. He put his foot down hard on the gas and the engine roared. Chanyeol held onto his seat tightly, heart beating impossibly quickly.

They arrived in two minutes, a ride where Chanyeol thought they would die at least ten different times.

The neighborhood was quiet. Eerily so. Jongdae jumped out of the car before Kyungsoo even had the chance to turn it off. Chanyeol followed suit.

A dark figure was standing in front of Baekhyun’s house.

Jongdae run towards it, electricity already running through his palms. The figure must have heard because it turned and-

Chanyeol stopped his steps.

Baekhyun’s brother was staring at them, hands shaking, fear deforming his handsome face.

Jongdae stopped in front of him, the electricity disappearing with a loud pop. “You must be Baekbeom,” he said. “I’m Jongdae.”

Baekbeom didn’t reply, he stared behind Jongdae at Chanyeol with wide eyes.

“You-” he said. “You’re alive-”

“Hi,” Chanyeol bowed. “It’s a long story… Where’s Baekhyun?” he asked and his voice trembled.

Baekbeom winced. Jongdae grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Do you know something?” he said. “Were you here? You weren’t here before-”

“Jongdae, Baekbeom’s an Oneiromancer,” Chanyeol interrupted him and came closer. “He can see what’s happening in his dreams,” he explained. “What did you see?”

Baekbeom seemed lost. “I-” he stuttered. “My father took Baekhyun,” he said bluntly. Everyone froze, Jongdae letting his hands fall to his sides in defeat.

“I saw Baekhyun trying to find his keys,” he continued. “He was humming a song, and didn’t seem alert at all. I think he checked his phone and then it happened-” Baekbeom stopped his narration and turned to look at the house entrance. He approached it and headed to the wooden post beside it. The others followed.

“A girl appeared,” he said, “From behind. It all happened in a second; she hit his head on this post and he passed out.” Chanyeol noticed that there was indeed barely noticeable traces of blood. Jongdae put his hand over his mouth, horrified.

“And your father?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I saw him right after,” he replied. “He opened a… black gate--Can he do that now?--and he took him inside. I woke up immediately. I didn’t know what to do besides come check it out. Sometimes I don’t even know if I’m having a regular dream or not.”

Chanyeol approached him and patted his back. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll find him. We’ll find Baekhyun. I promise.”

Kyungsoo looked angry. He turned around and made a call, probably to inform the others. Jongdae came closer again, this time with Baekhyun’s phone on his hands. His knuckles were white.

“I’ll fry this bastard alive,” he said. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Baekbeom replied and rubbed his eyes. “I wish I could help,” he sighed.

“Go to your family,” Chanyeol said soothingly. “I promise, I’ll update you on every new development. You’ll be the first to know.”

Baekbeom shook his head, relaxing just a little. “Don’t call Grandma,” he said. “She’ll take it hard and her health is not the best at the moment.” He sighed. “I knew this would happen. He would never dare to do that if she was around.”

"We’ll deal with it,” Chanyeol insisted. “We have a team ready and we’ll save him. You know how much I love him. I’ll never let anything bad happen to him.”

“I know,” he said. “Chanyeol… Please save him.”

[...]

 

Every super, including the inactive ones, was prepared and ready to fight. All except Yifan and Luhan who didn’t have alias, Chanyeol realised. Still, he gaped when he saw his childhood idol, Suho, handing out cups of coffee and energy drinks.

Minseok immediately hovered over them, his expression worried. Jongdae hugged him. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo awkwardly slid by them to meet with the others.

There were maps and documents scattered all over the table, making a big mess. Every location that the Commander had appeared in the last year was circled with red ink. Calculations about the size of his witch army were scribbled everywhere on the table. Chanyeol inspected them.

“Everyone, sit down please,” Kyungsoo said. They all obeyed.

“So what’s the plan?” Chanyeol asked. “Do we know where Baekhyun is?”

Nobody said a word. Chanyeol covered his face with his hands.

“Uhm,” Yifan said after a while. “Maybe I can help.”

Everyone turned their heads to look at him.

Yifan blushed. Joonmyeon took his hand into his and looked at him, concerned.

“What’s your power, dude?” Sehun asked. Minseok gave him a loud slap on the nape.

“I- can probably smell him,” he said, reluctantly.

Everyone blinked.

“You’ve got super sense of smell?” Jongdae asked, with a high-pitched, unbelieving tone.

“He’s got super senses in general,” Joonmyeon sighed. “Especially _when_ he changes.”

“Changes?” this time it was Chanyeol who asked.

“I’m a dragon,” Yifan replied and his face turned a bright red.

The only sound was the clock ticking.

“Dude,” Sehun said again. “What?”

Joonmyeon tapped his fingers on the table. “He’s a Chinese dragon,” he explained. “They have two forms. He can change into a massive dragon and fly around in search of Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol gaped.

“I can probably track him once I turn,” Yifan said.

“Wait,” Chanyeol said. “You can breathe fire too?”

Yifan raised his eyebrows, surprised.

“No,” Kyungsoo was the one who finally replied. “Chinese dragons have water affinity. You’re talking about the Western dragon.”

Chanyeol pressed his lips together. “Still cool,” he said to himself.

Jongdae banged his fist on the table. “Everyone focus, please!” he yelled. “Yifan, can you go and find my boyfriend, _please_? Now, the rest of us, what will we do until then?”

“I’ll go with Yifan,” Joonmyeon said. “I'm the only he can talk to when he's in dragon form, so I’ll ride on his back and call you if he finds anything.” Everyone agreed.

Chanyeol turned to face Luhan, who sat beside him. “Did you know?” he whispered.

Luhan seemed bored. “Of course. We grew up together. He couldn’t turn into a human until he was an adult, so I was the only person he could talk to. And Joonmyeon,” he added. Chanyeol widened his eyes.

“Chanyeol, focus please,” Kyungsoo instructed. He noticed that Yifan and Joonmyeon had already left.

“Minseok, Jongdae, Sehun, Tao,” Kyungsoo continued. “We’ll act according to the plan. We don’t know how many witches are going to be present. We’ve calculated around thirty. But. We do know they don’t like to work together, so you probably won’t face them all at once. Try to delay as many as you can, so Chanyeol and I can find Baekhyun and the Commander.”

Jongdae was ready to object, but Kyungsoo cut him off. “Plan,” he emphasized. “We’ve been working on these formations for a year. You’re needed there, Jongdae.” Jongdae shut his mouth and stopped his objections.

“Now,” he continued, “Jongin will be with Yixing and Luhan at a close safe location. Not too close, but enough so that Luhan can act as messenger. If someone gets seriously injured, Jongin will transfer them to Yixing to heal. Luhan, we’ve talked about this, don’t be afraid to talk to me even if I’m fighting. I won’t lose my concentration.”

“Okay, got it,” Luhan replied. “Is everyone else fine with me hearing your thoughts during the fight?” he asked. Everyone softly murmured their consent.

“Now, it seems that the Commander is particularly focused on me and Chanyeol,” said Kyungsoo. “Chanyeol,” he turned to address him. “We’ve practiced our strategy. As for liquid fire-” he paused. “Use it only if it’s necessary. And be _careful_. I won’t have what happened last time. Understood?”

“Understood,” he said, and dropped his eyes to the table.

“Yifan and Joonmyeon will be nearby as well,” he continued. “If anything goes wrong, especially with fire, they’ll help. Don’t be afraid.”

“Okay. I understand.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s go save Baekhyun.”

[...]

 

Joonmyeon called to inform them that Yifan caught the scent: an abandoned factory near the Han river.

“Villains are so predictable,” commented Sehun as Jongin teleported the first batch there. Tao didn’t seem so relaxed.

“I don’t like abandoned places,” he admitted. “They’re usually haunted. And this has witches too.”

Chanyeol glanced at Kyungsoo, who merely seemed thoughtful. He gently intertwined their fingers together.

“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asked and Chanyeol hummed. “The suit suits you.” Ηe smiled despite his worry.

“Thanks,” he replied. “Baekhyun-”

“Baekhyun might be angry and terrified. Βut I’m sure he’s physically okay. The Shadow Prince- I mean the Commander- does care about his family.”

Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows and pressed his lips together. “I know. But he’s crazy. You never know.”

“We’ll see. Yixing will stand by. We’ll do this. Remember. Our goal is to save Baekhyun. We’ll deal with the Commander and his army another time.”

“Okay,” breathed Chanyeol. “Are you ready?”

“I was born ready.”

[...]

 

When Jongin teleported them to the scene, the witches were already out on the hunt. The moonlight illuminated them as if attracted by their swaying forms. The other team had already assembled and was ready to fight.

“On my mark,” whispered Kyungsoo, “we run through them.”

Chanyeol nodded.

The seconds before the attack felt as if they dragged forever. Then, everything was too fast to process.

“Now!” Kyungsoo yelled and sprinted across the yard. Chanyeol followed.

Every time a witch tried to catch him in her sharp-nailed grasp, something deterred her. He felt ice crystals bouncing off his cheeks, accompanied by the sound of electricity. Chanyeol ignored it and ran faster until he was just a step behind Kyungsoo. A strong wind dragged a witch away from the entrance and they finally entered the factory, locking the door. It was dark.

“Fire,” Kyungsoo instructed and Chanyeol obeyed. “Let’s go.”

They ran a considerable distance, climbing stairs and opening doors. Kyungsoo eventually stopped.

“There are no witches here,” he said, his breathing uneven. “Chanyeol, this is a trap.”

Chanyeol kicked the wall beside him. “Or he’s confident that he can take us both alone,” he retorted.

“The Shadow Prince has stopped physically fighting us after I defeated him,” Kyungsoo disagreed. “I don’t think this is it.”

“Still, we can’t give up! We won’t leave Baekhyun behind. Yifan said he’s here.”

Kyungsoo looked around them. “One floor left,” he said. “Let’s try that. Be careful.”

This time, they quietly ran up the stairs. When the large door appeared, they knew something ominous was lurking inside. Kyungsoo tentatively opened it. It didn’t make a sound.

The throne was there. Just like Chanyeol remembered it, exuding an evil aura. The Commander lounged on it, legs crossed and expression bored. When he saw Chanyeol, he sat up straight, eyes going hard.

Chanyeol was ready to step in when Kyungsoo held him back by the arm. He looked down.

“What’s this?” he asked. Ash covered the floor.

“Fireheart, what a surprise,” the Commander purred, his posture relaxing again. “This is just an experiment. Come in.”

Chanyeol stepped inside. Nothing happened. Then he heard Kyungsoo doing the same. He heard him fall.

“What-” he was immediately by his side. Kyungsoo was on the floor, covered in that gray ash, coughing. He tried to lift him up, but it was futile. Kyungsoo wouldn’t let him help him.

The Commander’s laugh caught his attention. He faced him, protecting Kyungsoo with his body.

“Well, that worked,” he said. “To be honest, I didn’t expect it.”

“What is this-” he yelled. “You-”

“Oh my dear Fireheart, I’m afraid I found your friend’s weakness.” Chanyeol realized that the Commander really liked to talk. “I know that if someone lifts him off the ground, then he loses his powers. I just had to find out _how_ I can do that. D.O, is always so careful.”

Chanyeol widened his eyes. “What do you mean,” he said. “What is this?”

The Commander smiled. “I thought that I should find a good insulator. I kept wondering and wondering… what makes him weak? Obviously he doesn’t need to touch the earth. Buildings, wood, metal, plastic; they’re all conductors to his power. But what about humans?” He smiled wickedly. “I can nullify his powers with this. Human ash.”

Chanyeol took a step back, disgusted. He covered his mouth with his palm, feeling his stomach roil at the knowledge. “You’re crazy,” he said. Kyungsoo gripped his leg. He wanted to turn and help him, but he had to protect both of them now.

“It worked better than I thought,” the Commander laughed. “I wonder what will happen if he _breathes_ it in.”

It happened in the blink of an eye. Someone kicked him from behind and he fell onto the floor, displacing the ash into the air. He coughed and turned his head to see Kyungsoo fighting off a witch trying to grab his hair. Kyungsoo kicked her in the chest and managed to stand on his feet. He might have been weak and have lost his super strength, but he was still a martial artist.

Chanyeol tried to get between them but another one got in his way. He set her on fire, but she didn’t even flinch. He hadn’t mastered the Liquid Fire yet. The witch was a blonde with bewitching purple eyes. “This tickles,” she told him, laughing, and charged at him.

Chanyeol blocked her and tried to punch her in the face instead. He tried to figure out how he could kill them without-

Kyungsoo gasped so loudly that he lost his concentration. A kick found his stomach and he hit the floor with a groan. He could hear Kyungsoo’s choking, clear as a bell. He turned his head slightly to see him collapsed on the ground, his mask in the witch's hands. She smiled evilly, revealing her sharp teeth. Kyungsoo tried to crawl away, but his strength had already abandoned him. He fell back on the ground again, hard.

Chanyeol couldn't reach him. He panicked.

Jongin appeared from nowhere with a popping sound, expression anxious. He made a move as if to grab Kyungsoo, but the witch slashed her nails in his direction. He disappeared, this time appearing on Kyungsoo’s other side. He took Kyungsoo’s arm under his and-

The witch kicked his head.

Jongin fell to the ground, Kyungsoo gasping and then coughing again. Kyungsoo tried to shake him but Jongin’s body was motionless.

Chanyeol felt tears gathering in his eyes. Kyungsoo always protected him. And in return he could do nothing. _What could I possibly do?_ The witch kicked his back, cackling in mirth.

“Where’s Baekhyun?” he asked out loud, spitting blood on the floor. He hoped the Commander would at least tell them that. Luhan _had_ to hear it.

“Oh, my son,” the man pondered. “They wanted collateral, so I handed him over.”

Chanyeol’s eye twitched. “Collateral?” he asked. “What do you mean, you gave your _son_ as collateral? To whom?”

“To the other dimension,” he replied. “He’s going to be fine, as long as I fulfill my plans.”

“To the other dimension,” Chanyeol repeated in disbelief. “You mean these- _creatures_ who told you to ruin the world?” he asked. “You gave them your son?”

“He’s harmless there,” the Commander replied like that was what Chanyeol was furious about, Baekhyun harming these dark creatures. “There’s only darkness, he can’t do anything. Light would harm them.”

Chanyeol felt helpless. Everything was over. They had lost. Kyungsoo was bleeding and coughing on the ground, Jongin in his arms. Baekhyun was in another dimension, God knows where. And he was useless. He couldn’t fight these witches off, he couldn’t save even himself, let alone someone else.

He felt familiar white flames surrounding him. This time, he was prepared.

“Careful, there, Fireheart,” the Commander warned. “You know those are dangerous. You!” he said to the witch who knocked out Jongin. “Bring him here!”

It felt weird seeing someone drag Kyungsoo on the floor with little effort. Jongin was left behind. Chanyeol narrowed his eyes at the Commander, who mocked him, “I have your little friend now, whatever will you do?”

Chanyeol dared to throw a flame at the blonde witch. She instantly caught on fire, screaming and falling onto the floor. The Commander sat up from his throne, furious. “What-” he said.

“And I have your witches!” threatened Chanyeol. “I’ll burn every single one of them, and then who’s gonna protect you?” The hate in the Commander’s eyes gave him the strength to get to his feet. “Touch him,” he said, “and you’re done.”

“You think you have the upper hand?” the older man laughed. Then his expression turned serious again. “You’ll never have it. You work for those who mistreat us, experiment on us, kill us because they’re afraid of us!” he yelled. “Go on, save your precious mentor, the one who benefits from all of this.” He kicked Kyungsoo on the gut and Chanyeol took a step forward, ready to act.

“We’re not their slaves,” the Commander continued. “They demand to give our lives for them, sacrifice our families. Do you know they killed my wife? Do you know they tried to arrest me based on a prophecy? This is no _law!_ I hadn’t done anything, yet they came to execute me. _They_ are the real monsters.”

“And you try to prove that they were right to come kill you?” Chanyeol replied. “How would your wife react if she knew?”

The Commander growled at Chanyeol’s question. “My wife leapt in front of me to protect me,” he hissed. “And when I begged them to at least get her a healer, they refused because she tried to save me. It was too dangerous to have her on my side, so _they_ let her die.”

Chanyeol widened his eyes. That was different from Baekhyun’s story, yet he believed it. He could see the truth on the man’s face.

“I killed them all later,” he laughed. “Every single person responsible for her death. She would understand. I know it.”

Chanyeol shook his head in disapproval. “You gave her son to creatures of the dark dimension,” he accused. “Do you think she would ever agree to that?”

“Baekhyun’s fine!” he yelled and stomped his foot on the ground.

“Baekhyun’s somewhere in the dark, alone and scared!” Chanyeol yelled back. “You took him away from this family and friends… You think he’s fine? He’s terrified!”

The Commander trembled. He turned and looked at the throne behind him with an expression that Chanyeol couldn’t quite understand. Kyungsoo seemed to notice that as well, eyes falling on the throne too.

The Commander faced him again. “He’ll be fine,” he insisted. “When I achieve my plan, I’ll have him back and give him more than he could ever imagine. Now, Fireheart, are you sure you want to do this?” He lifted an eyebrow. “I have _a lot_ of witches.”

“Bring it on, old man,” Chanyeol replied.

Fuck. Turned out he did have a lot of witches. Chanyeol ran throughout the room, ducking and diving through them. He had to be careful not to burn himself or Jongin, still unconscious in the middle of the room. The Commander eyed him like the cat that had cornered the mouse, ignoring Kyungsoo who was slowly dragging himself away from the old man.

He occasionally heard him coughing, but he kept fighting--hitting, kicking, and blocking attacks. Chanyeol knew the Commander must not notice Kyungsoo’s effort to get closer to the throne. He had to be the distraction.

He sent a flame at him that was easily blocked by a black-haired witch. The last one. The Commander hissed and angrily stalked closer.

“Can’t fight, old man?” Chanyeol teased. He could see Kyungsoo sitting beside the throne, tentatively touching the black shadow around it. His hand disappeared like passing through a window. He quickly withdrew it, obviously planning something. Then he stuck his whole arm in, as if searching for something.

Chanyeol widened his eyes, but caught himself. He calmed himself, putting on a poker face so as to not reveal anything to his opponent. The villain approached him, dark shadows engulfing his body like armour, slashing the air as if they had substance.

“You want to see how I fight?” he threatened, making the shadows dart menacingly in every direction.

Chanyeol yelped as one of them touched his leg and _hurt_. It hurt like someone was pulling his flesh out. He dropped to his knees, losing his concentration. And his flames.

He barely avoided a shadow heading for his neck. The Commander smiled wickedly. Chanyeol was cornered.

“Any last words?” he asked.

Chanyeol looked at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, who was still on the ground, white from head to toe with ash, hand still inside the throne. He signalled him.

Their signal.

Chanyeol gulped. What Kyungsoo was asking- If he didn’t have his powers-

 _Chanyeol_. Luhan’s voice echoed inside his head. _Kyungsoo got this ability from his mother. It’s not connected to his lost powers. Do it._

Still he felt doubt. The Commander snickered as he produced a terrifyingly large shadow that would surely swallow him whole. Chanyeol blinked, deciding this was their only chance.

He set Kyungsoo on fire.

“Baekhyun!” Kyungsoo yelled and moved his arm inside. “Do you see this?! Light!!”

 

 

 

 

Light exploded.

 

 

The throne produced light in every direction, cutting through the dark material.

Chanyeol closed his eyes, feeling them water. The Commander’s scream was so loud it sent chills down his spine.

With his eyes still closed the light almost felt surreal.

He felt safe, like it was comforting him. The same way the Commander’s shadows took substance, Baekhyun’s light touched him gently, engulfed him in something warm and cozy. Chanyeol let himself go lax on the wall, hiding his eyes with his palms for extra protection. Even though he didn’t know what would happen next, he smiled.

They had succeeded.

 

 

 

**_Epilogue_ **

 

 

Chanyeol sat on the roof of the city hall, legs dangling in the air. Kyungsoo should arrive at any moment.

“You’re five minutes late,” he said when he heard footsteps. He grinned, only to be greeted with a Kyungsoo in full costume. “Come on, can’t you at least take off your mask for me?” he teased.

Kyungsoo did, his expression unimpressed. “Why?” he asked as he sat beside him.

“So that I can kiss you.”

“Chanyeol! Not on the job!” he protested as he gently pushed him away. “Fiiine,” he relented after Chanyeol gave him his best puppy eyes. Chanyeol leaned and waited. “You want _me_ to kiss you?”

“Please,” he murmured and closed his eyes.

He honestly expected just a peck. Kyungsoo kissed him hard, bringing his face closer with a hand on his nape. Chanyeol opened his mouth obediently, moaning when Kyungsoo shamelessly licked inside. He giggled.

“Ew,” he said laughing. Kyungsoo smiled sheepishly. “I thought you didn’t want to kiss me.”

“Of course I did,” he replied. “You know I love you.”

Chanyeol smiled and came closer again, hugging Kyungsoo around the shoulders. “I know.”

“And?”

“I love you too!”

Kyungsoo rarely seemed as genuinely happy as he was in that moment. “Did you decide?” he asked, the setting sun illuminating his skin into a golden tint.

“Yes.”

Kyungsoo took a paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “Have a pen?” he asked.

“The magic belt you gave me literally contains everything,” he replied as he handed him one.

Kyungsoo made a serious expression as he started reading through it. “Turn your back so that I can write on it,” he said, and Chanyeol obeyed. He felt Kyungsoo pressing the paper. “I confirm that you have completed your six months of apprentice as a sidekick,” he murmured and placed a signature on a box. Chanyeol felt the tip of the pen moving quickly, in an impressively elaborate signature. “I approve that you should be promoted to hero status,” he checked the box and then signed beside it as well. “And I’m now all done with my part.”

“So you’re really promoting me to ‘hero’?’” Chanyeol turned and wiggled his eyebrows. Kyungsoo snorted.

“I can always rip this and change it,” he threatened.

“No, no!” Chanyeol quickly took the paper away from this hands. “Baekhyun will never let me live that down. I swear, there are bets among our friends about it.”

“Does someone really think that I would leave you a sidekick?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Sehun does.”

Kyungsoo laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Chanyeol whined and gave the paper back to him.

Kyungsoo moved the pen between his fingers. “So,” he said. “Do you accept?”

Chanyeol looked around him, marvelling at the gorgeous sunset. It contained many brilliant shades of reds, oranges, and pinks.

“No,” he replied. “Check 'no' for both ‘Hero’ and ‘Sidekick’. I will be neither.”

Kyungsoo furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t want to work as a super?”

Chanyeol closed his eyes, feeling the rays of the sun gently lighting his cheeks. “No,” he said. “I want to be a musician. You were completely right. It doesn’t suit me.”

“Chanyeol-” Kyungsoo hesitated. “I believe you’re already a great hero. You know that.”

Chanyeol opened his eyes again. “I know,” he smiled. “But I want to live happily. Enjoy my family. Enjoy you. Enjoy my music. And then, one day I might join the rescue organization that Joonmyeon and Jongin are a part of. But not yet.”

Kyungsoo nodded and scribbled something down, this time placing the paper on his thigh. “I’m proud of you,” he said, pecking his cheek. Chanyeol snuggled closer into his embrace.

“One last thing,” Kyungsoo said. “I have to write down the sidekick name you had when you were under my orders. What do you pick? ‘Firemark?’ ‘Combuster?’ ‘Pyrolysis?’” he asked.

Chanyeol thought about it, and decided with a smile.

 

“‘Fireheart.’”

 

 

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How I imagine what happened.  
> -Joonmyeon and Yifan extinguished the building’s fire.  
> -Baekhyun took Kyungsoo’s hand and got out of the dark dimension. Baekhyun’s hand burned but it was easy for Yixing to fix.  
> -Jongin is fine. A little embarrassed, but everyone thanked him for his help.  
> -The Commander evaporated.  
> -The witches remained, but they captured all of them.  
> -Baekhyun and Jongdae moved in together a year later.  
> -Yifan and Joonmyeon got their baby (a girl). They also adopted a teenage boy.  
> -Chanyeol became a composer. He also occasionally writes good poetry but is teased about it.  
> -Chanyeol moved to Kyungsoo’s place by sneakily leaving his things behind until it was obvious that he pretty much lived there.  
> -I’m pretty sure Chansoo at least once, had sex in the soundproof music room, to make sure the soundproofing worked. OTL  
> -Chanyeol also started going to therapy for his panic-attacks. After a while, Kyungsoo joined as well, to help deal with the aftermath of the emotional trauma he experienced.  
> -Chanyeol’s mom still adores D.O and Chanyeol gets jealous sometimes. 
> 
> And finally the most important detail of all:  
> -Sehun became a hero.
> 
> Explanation about the ending: I don’t think Chanyeol was attached to any alias he had while working as a sidekick. His main problem was that he couldn’t handle a second identity. He barely knew what he wanted as Chanyeol, so deciding what kind of hero he was as well was simply too much for him. I believe he didn’t feel like he accomplished anything with any name he had given himself. Instead, when he was the prophecy’s “Fireheart,” he had saved both of the people he loved the most. Writing ‘Fireheart’ as his sidekick name is not him accepting it as his future identity, but rather him acknowledging the fact that he took part in something big and succeeded. Through this experience, he found himself.  
> P.S. I swear the CBX subunit wasn’t even announced when I started working on this LMAO. I was mostly inspired by their first “teaser” video.


End file.
